Peering Into Destiny's Trap
by De Bre Layn
Summary: ON HIATUS. Who, is T'Kara? Why does Q feel a need to watch her and why do the Borg want her? What does the Borg Queen want her to remember? Stuck involuntary in a continuous loop of alternate realities, she must stop herself from becoming the evil which she fears most. Can the Enterprise help her? Can she outrun destiny? A little Picard x OC thrown in or Data x OC if you squint.
1. Prologue

_**Hello,**_

 _This is my first published fan fiction. I would love to hear your input! I have written ahead a few chapters, but I hope to space out my posting. During the school year I will probably be pretty busy, but I want to update as often as possible. I WILL NOT abandon this story, even if I get bored writing it (but I don't think I will). Thank you for reading. PLEASE REVIEW!_

 _-De Bre Layn_

* * *

 **PROLOGUE**

 **ENTRY 169,341:**

 _My story seems to be ending._ I am cornered by an enemy I never expected to face—myself. Is this really who I become, a monster? How? When do I go from protecting the people I care about to morphing them into unrecognizable evils, _and enjoying it?_ This can't be my _story_ , my _destiny_ , my _fate_ , as everyone says it is. I _refuse_ to accept that **.**

I look back at my life and I see many mistakes, but do any of them—or, indeed, all of them combined—amount to this? I don't think so. Maybe, if I examine my story, I can find a warning, some turning point. Maybe my past can lend me some clues to the future. _Maybe_ things can change if I tell a story.

Where does one begin a story? More specifically, where should I begin _my_ story. With my parents. My birth? My catalyst moment? My _death_? No. It began long before that. Q and I are the only two who know my story; he knows far more than I do, of course. But neither of knows exactly _when_ everything began, even he. Despite that, I will endeavor to clarify my situation. For me, it began when...


	2. The Catalyst Moment

**VULCAN'S FORGE: THE YEAR 2262**

T'Kara picked her way cautiously down the trail at the top of the gorge. She was six years old and, with her father, Starok's consent, had begun to undertake the kahs-wan early. Today, being the ninth day into her test of survival, she felt an irrational need to be more careful. She would jump to attention at the slightest shift of the rocks or the quietest snap of a twig. "One day left," had become her mantra. Now this was not necessary, considering the fact that T'Kara had excelled in her survival so far. Although, for some reason, the encouragement seemed to help. She refused to cite her mother's mysterious—and therefore, probably non-Vulcan and emotional—roots as the cause of her trepidation. Her mother's blemish on the bloodlines was the reason she decided to challenge herself early, and the reason her father so readily agreed. She wanted—no, needed—to prove that she could be more than her mother's failure. T'Kara shook away her distractions. She needed to focus on the task at hand, navigating a path to the bottom of the crevice, where a small stream ran. Even the slightest misstep had the capacity to send her careening down the slope to dangerous rocks below. Help was many clicks away, if she did get injured, and disgraceful, considering the fact that she was undertaking emkahs-wan/em. No, T'Kara would have to be fine, or be dead. This last thought came with some bitter amusement, which T'Kara shook off. Emotions—they made her weak.

Her father often spoke that logic was the only path to understanding. It was the truth, so why did she have such an issue adhering to it. Her emotions were always just below the surface, clawing at her reason in a very un-Vulcan manner. She blamed her mother, whoever the woman was. It was a secret her father had never disclosed to any member of the family.

T'Kara pulled her mind back to the present as she reached the bottom of the gorge. She cautiously approached the stream, keeping a watchful eye for any Le-matyas, vicious beasts with poisonous claws. T'Kara dropped to her hands and knees and submerged her head in the stream, drinking the water greedily and letting it roll over her. It had been two trying days since she last came upon water in the barren wasteland that was Vulcan's Forge. After drinking her fill, T'Kara stood and decided to follow the small brook downstream, in hopes of discovering a deeper area in which she could bathe.

T'Kara stepped into the warm pool of water and released a formerly pent-up sigh. It felt...pleasing to be rid of the dirt and sand that had clung to her small frame. She was temped to remove her clothing, but thought against it, knowing that she would need to be prepared at any instant. Upon that thought, T'Kara's hand darted to a fold in her clothing to check that the knife she had carved out of wild sehlat bone. The knife reminded her of her own domestic sehlat, named I-Chaya, after her hero, Captain Spock's childhood pet. A pang of longing went out of her for her pet. NO, not longing. She was mistaken. To feel longing was wrong. She simply was disturbebd by the lack of regularity in her recent days. T'Kara decided that she was just not used to being without the presence I-Chaya and wished to return to her daily routine. Nothing more.

After she finished bathing, T'Kara sat drying on a bolder by the side of the stream. She used her spare time to meditate, folding in her pinkie and ring fingers, clasping her hands together, closing her eyes, sitting in a lotus position, and regulating her breathing.

T'Kara felt uneasy. Her meditation simply felt like she was going through the motions without the actual emotional purging. Something was wrong. Something felt very wrong. Her eyes snapped open and begun to dart around quickly in an attempt to ascertain if anything was out of place. Nothing moved. She could not sense the presence of any beast, but still...

Gracefully pulling herself up to a standing position, T'Kara gathered the pile of vegetation she had collected by the stream and rolled it into her sack, which she slung over her back. She warily began to gather dried vegetation to make a fire. It was quickly becoming dusk and she needed a way to keep any stray Le-matyas away. The fire had the added benefit of keeping T'Kara warm; the Forge could get very cold at night.

In a few hours, T'Kara had a large fire roaring. The light of day had just recently receded and the stars began to come out. Laying on her back, with her hands folded under her head, T'Kara gazed up at the little pinpricks of light. She smiled involuntarily before schooling her expression into one of neutrality once again. Somewhere up there was a Vulcan named Spock. He was the first of their people to join Starfleet. She admired the willpower it took. Someday, she hoped, that could be her. Stepping out to explore the skies. The stars that beckoned T'Kara with endless opportunities sang her to sleep, promising a day in which she could fit in with the other Vulcan children.

* * *

Waking to the rising sun in her eyes, T'Kara squinted and pushed herself up on her hands and knees. She stretched and stifled a yawn. "The last day." A smile wrongfully played at her lips. She couldn't help it. The thought of spending that night in her own bed, warm and safe, filled her with a pleasant emotion that she had difficulty repressing. T'Kara took a few calming breaths and buried the emotion. After achieving emotional homeostasis, T'Kara unwrapped her bundle of plants and began to eat her breakfast. Halfway through her meal, T'Kara, wide-eyed, snapped her head up and grabbed for her knife. She had heard a deafening roar. Chills ran down her spine. She stood up, instantly alert. The animal cry sounded again—closer. A Le-matya was closing in on its prey—and her location. T'Kara began the only action that entered her mind through her terror. She ran. Risking a look back, she sucked in a breath. It was at her campsite. Fast. Faster! Even faster! She didn't turn to look. She didn't stop. She just ran. She was panting. The world was spinning around her. She ran. It roared again. Her stomach did flips. It was closer! Panic ate away at the reasoning that her people had always held so highly. T'Kara heard boulders—the ones that rested on the steep sides of the gorge above her—shift. She screamed as rocks practically flew down the slope, slamming into her and throwing her to the ground. Everything faded to black.

* * *

The first thing she became aware of was the, well, lack of...anything? A blank whiteness surrounded her, permeating the atmosphere. She would have mistaken herself for being dead had it not been for the pounding in her head. Suddenly, a humanoid man appeared from seemingly nowhere. He was pale with medium-length brown hair. The man walked up to her with a maniacal grin plastered to his face. She realized the she was still lying on her stomach when he had to bend at the knees and cock his head to look her in the eyes. "Pesky rocks," he said. "I never could figure out what made them fall in the first place." He paused. She wrinkled her brow in confusion, but didn't speak, so he resumed talking. "This is where everything changes for you." He seemed sad for a moment before covering it with a smile again. "You better get back. Wakey-wakey!"

* * *

T'Kara blinked awake and sat up with a gasp. She had been lying on her stomach in the gorge. There were rocks scattered around her and the dust was still settling. Sitting up, T'Kara looked around herself in confusion. That was...interesting. Her running shouldn't have caused the rocks to fall. Her eyes widened as she remembered the reason she was running in the first place. She reached for her knife, tightened her grip on it, and held her breath. Patience. Waiting and watching. Finally, she exhaled. No Le-matya in sight.

Returning to her campsite, T'Kara was astounded. The was no evidence that the beast had been there. Her belongings were not disturbed and there were no paw prints. Curious. Very curious. Everything was fine. She was fine.

* * *

 **13 YEARS LATER: THE YEAR 2275**

T'Kara stood with her ear to the door of her father's conference room. Starok was discussing her with her Academy Director, Tevol. "It is fascinating," the director said, "that T'Kara has accomplished so much, considering her disability." She pictured her father arching his eyebrows at the comment. "Perhaps, although I do not believe that she possesses a disability." That was as far as her father ever would go to stand up for her. Sometimes, T'Kara wondered if he still viewed her as disabled, unwanted, even though he didn't say it. She hoped not. After all, it was his fault more than her own. "Be that as it may," the director continued, "she has been the highest-achieving student in her class. I wish to inform you that she has received an invitation to the Academy of Science." She could picture her father nodding solemnly. It was an honorable moment—an offspring being not only accepted, but chosen to enter the academy. She decided that this was due to the fact that she had never received a grade that was less than perfect. This was due, of course, to her eidetic memory. Remembering everything upon the first time of seeing or hearing it made for competition with her classmates hardly challenging.

Her father's bondmate, T'Pov, walked by the door and shot T'Kara a disapproving look for listening in to her father's conversation. T'Kara knew that T'Pov would not discipline her. T'Pov saw T'Kara as the blemish in what was almost a perfect family. T'Kara didn't blame T'Pov—she saw herself that way as well.

T'Kara made sure to have quietly scampered from the door when her father and the Director exited the room. She sat in a nearby chair, pretending to be engrossed in reading from her PADD. They exchanged raising the ta'al in farewell and T'Pov showed the Director out. Only then did she approach her father. "Director Tevol is not faithful to his bondmate," she stated. Starok glanced down with a displeased frown. "Accusations of that type are not to be taken lightly, child. Tell me: what evidence do you mistakenly believe that fact to be based upon?" She cocked her head, staring after the Director. "I am...uncertain. It simply... feels true." Starok sighed. "You would do well to recall the teachings of Surak. 'Logic is only that which can be explained.'" She bowed her head slightly in submission. "I understand, father. Forgive my imprudence." Her father grumbled out a formal acceptance before stalking off. T'Kara turned back to where the Director had been. She shook her head in confusion. She couldn't explain the feeling, she simply knew that it was true. Where was the logic in that?

Abandoning that line of thought, she instead turned her thoughts to the reason that Academy Director Tevol was there to begin with. If all went well, then within a few years time, T'Kara would be entering the Vulcan Academy of Science. In about 30 years, she would graduate, having achieved higher levels of her academic majors: cybernetics, engineering, mathematics, and—her personal favorite—artificial intelligence design. Then, perhaps, she would run for a position in the Science Council (she preferred a position in the Science Directorate, but her unorthodox manner would inhibit that). Finally, she decided that she would join a research team to travel the stars—uninhibited and untouchable. This was, of course, her end goal if her life continued to play out as she planned. Well,it didn't.

* * *

 **5 MONTHS LATER**

T'Kara stood patiently answering advanced physics questions in her learning center pod. "A faulty air shuttle, moving at 30 meters per second, enters a one-way tunnel. The pilot manually spots a larger air shuttle, moving at 5 meters per second, 155 meters ahead. The pilot initiates deceleration thrusters, but, due to impulse engine trouble, can only decelerate at a rate of 2 meters per second. Disregarding air friction, or the action of the other pilot, will there be a collision?" T'Kara rolled her eyes. Easy."Equation: Velocity equals acceleration multiplied by time. Substitution: 30 = -2(T), therefore T = 30/2, or 15 seconds. Continuation: Distance equals velocity multiplied by time. Substitution: D = (30/2) x 15, or 225 meters. Continuation: Distance equals velocity multiplied by time. Substitution: D = 5(15), or 75 meters. Final Answer: In the 15 seconds it takes to stop, the air shuttle continues 225 meters. In those same 15 seconds, the larger air shuttle moves 75 meters. There will be no collision, with a minimum of 5 meters between the shuttles." There was a pause as the computer processed her answer. "Correct. Next Question: A sub-atomic particle, moving at a constant speed of 6 x 10^6 meters per second, enters a region with an electric field where it is decelerated at a rate of 1.2 x 10^14 meters per second. Find the..."

Abruptly, the computer stopped speaking and the holosreens went dark. T'Kara furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"Computer: please resume lesson."

The computer responded, "Lesson has not been paused."

Now her eyebrows rose in surprise. "Computer: please state the nature of the malfunction."

"There is no malfunction."

She frowned. She contemplated mentioning the difficulty to the Director, but decided against it. She was unsure how the newly-appointed Director T'Vora would react. She had yet to get a "feel" for the woman after the previous Director, Tevol was dishonorably let go. Apparently it was found that he had not been loyal to his bondmate...

She pulled her attention back to the present."But computer—"

"—T'Kara, I need you to listen closely."

T'Kara sucked in a breath. The holoscreen was showing a very familiar man. This is the one she had seen in a hallucination that had occurred nearly fourteen years prior. He still had a smile on his face, but it seemed strained.

"You," she whispered, startled.

"Yes, it's me. Listen—"

"But that is impossible. You were a hallucination, merely a figment of my imagination. Who are you?"

"Now really isn't the time. I need you to—"

"No," she said, with just the slightest touch of anger in her voice.

"Excuse me?" The man looked incredulous.

"I will not cooperate until you explain who you are and what you have to do with the curious situation that occurred during my kahs-wan."

He sighed. "I'm Q; that's all you need to know for now."

"Very well, Q. You were saying?"

He rolled his eyes, but continued, "Any minute now, warnings will sound that unknown ships have suddenly come out of warp and begun their attack on Vulcan. They are after you. You have a thirteen-minute window to procure a ship and jump to warp before you are cornered. You need to leave now. There is a ship, called the SS Interstellar, that is scheduled to disembark in six minutes."

"Why should I believe you? And even if I do, why would they be after me?"

"In answer to both questions: Because there's more to you than even you know.

She was hesitant. "Hypothesize that I do believe you: who are they?"

"They're called the Borg—"

"—I have never heard of them," she snapped.

"No one in this quadrant has yet."

"You could be making this up? Why should I believe you?"

Q hesitated. "Because you'll be killed if you don't."

She sucked in a breath. What a price to pay! If she took him on his word and he was lying, then she would be reported for leaving her pod during instruction time—a terrible offense that could put her entire future on the line. However, if she did nothing and he was telling the truth, she would be... T'Kara didn't want to finish that thought. What should she do?  
Logic dictated that this Q was probably lying, but a nagging feeling said otherwise. Could she trust this mysterious man? Which should be risked: life or future? Would she dare risk leaving simply based on a "gut feeling" that Vulcan's were not ever supposed to have?

"No."

Q looked surprised. "What?"

"I said, 'No'. I will not do it. I do not trust you."

He sighed. "Very well."

T'Kara blinked. The computer resumed asking her its question as if nothing had happened. "—linear distance, in centimeters, the particle travels before coming to rest." She exhaled. "Computer: please restate the question." Only time would prove if she chose correctly or not. She tried to focus on the question, but she kept thinking about that man, Q. Was he a figment of her imagination?

Suddenly, the room was bathed in red as klaxons sounded. "Alert:" a voice said. "Reports have been received stating that an unknown fleet of ships has exited warp around Vulcan without warning and with hostility. Please make your way to the preset shelter coordinates." T'Kara gulped. Q wasn't lying. Alien ships really were here. Worst of all: that meant that she was too late.


	3. Survival

_Hello,_

 _so I'm having trouble with the site not displaying that neat little line it uses to divide sections. Instead of the line, I have:_ _ **0-0-0-0-0**_ _as a way of showing that an interval of time has passed. Also, if anyone's interested , I really could use a Beta to check my spelling and run my ideas by. Please PM me if you're interested. As always: PLEASE REVIEW._

 _-De Bre Layn_

Joining the mass of students and instructors, T'Kara started biting her lip. If these attackers really were after her, would they know to go to her place of education? Most likely. She had to get away. It was too late to board the Interstellar, which disembarked roughly 19 minutes ago. How else could she avoid what was apparently certain death? Perhaps, rather than escape her pursuers, she could evade them. Eventually, if they couldn't find her, they would tire and leave. Right?

She slipped down an alternate hallway that had already cleared of people. T'Kara knew that she had to act fast. She planned to sneak back to her family dwelling and warn her father, his bondmate, and their sons, Zarek and Tokov. Together, they would flee the city and wait out the attack. At least, that was the plan.

As she was nearing the exit, T'Kara stopped short. A voice came over the transmitter. No, not a voice, but many voices compiled eerily and perfectly together. "We are the Borg. Lower your defenses, surrender your weapons, and give us the child, known as T'Kara." T'Kara gasped. They had mentioned her, specifically! The voices continued, "We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture and people will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile." The transmission ended, leaving T'Kara standing alone in a hallway trying to steady her uneven, panicked breaths. Burying her fright, T'Kara continued to the exit.

As she exited the learning center, T'Kara heard something she never expected—a noise she could have hardly imagined prior to this day. People—Vulcans, and they were screaming. She heard and felt what sounded like a bomb go off somewhere in the city. She had yet to actually see a Borg, but there were a few people outside, running in what almost seemed like random directions. The majority of the supposedly emotionless people were giving off powerful waves of anxiety, which T'Kara could pick up on. The ability to feel their fear amplified her own. T'Kara knew she had her dear mother to thank for that.

T'Kara copied the actions of others and ran, staying close to the sides of the buildings, in the direction of her dwelling. She had set a good pace and made a habit of ducking into the alleyways, between buildings, for a moment after turning each corner. It was while hiding in one of these alleyways, that T'Kara first, lost contact with Salik, then, caught her first sight of the repulsive Borg.

She was crouching behind a pile of rubble when a stab of pain pierced her skull. She groaned and slid to the ground, clutching her head. The bond she had with Salik was only a childhood base-bond. It was barely a thread of connection, but it was enough. When the bond had been snapped out of place, the result was a feeling of emptiness and loneliness. She was used to that whisper of his presence as they had shared a base-bond for twelve years. Now he was gone. It hurt. But T'Kara shook her head to clear it. There would be time for grief later—or never. Right now, she had to focus on staying secure herself

About half-an-hour later, T'Kara ducked around the corner into a crevice between two closely-wedged buildings, believing that she had seen something glint in the fading sunlight. This unidentifiable object was ahead on the street and she decided to play it safe and stay hunkered down. After a couple minutes, T'Kara heard what sounded like rhythmic pounding of machinery. The Borg must have some sort of transport vehicles mobilized. It was about another minutes of the noise steadily growing louder before a small group of the Borg came into sight and she came upon a revaluation. The Borg were the machinery. They were ash-grey humanoids with metallic parts protruding from their skin. On most, one eye was a red glowing eyepiece, and each one had a pair of one arm and one killing tool.

It took T'Kara a couple seconds to realize that she had stopped breathing. It took her another couple seconds to process what happened next. A man charged out of the alley across the street from her and began firing a phaser at the group of five or six Borg. Only, it didn't injure any of them. The Borg, who had personal force fields protecting them, started to advance on him. Once the man realized that he had no affect, he dropped his weapon and started to fall back. It was too late. The monstrosity closest to him reached out with its metal-covered arm and grabbed the man around the neck. The other arm, fully robotic, reached up and injected two tubes into the man's neck. He screamed and his eyes rolled back into his skull. The killer that held him let go, and the man limply dropped to the street. The Borg turned back and continued marching up the street.

It was ten minutes before the sound of the Borg fully subsided, and another ten before T'Kara dared to leave her alley. She cautiously crept up to the man, who was lying on his face. She was constantly looking around to make sure that no more of those things would come upon them. She knelt beside him and gasped when realizing that he was still breathing. She rolled him over and, startled, jumped away from him. The man's skin had taken on the same sickly grey appearance of the Borg. Small sections of his skin were already streaked with newly-formed metallic veins. It took her a moment to realize what was happening. 'Your culture and people will adapt to service us,' the Borg had said earlier.

Everything made sense. The Borg would never leave Vulcan. It was too late for that. They were difficult to kill, and, as the Vulcan numbers grew less and less, the Borg continued to add to their ranks. What else had they said? 'We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own.' The only way to fully do that would be to...assimilate...the knowledge of the individuals as well. If they could do that and were looking for her, then their first target would be... T'Kara broke into a desperate run towards her dwelling.

Behind her, the man's eyes snapped open and trained on her.

"Resistance is futile, T'Kara."

 **0-0-0-0-0 3 HOURS LATER**

By the time that T'Kara arrived at her home, the sun had set. From the cliff overlooking the city, it was easy to see her learning center, along with other buildings, burning. People of high status, like her father lived in the cliffs. They offered a better view of the city. Now they offer a reminder of the horrors that had just occurred.

The bombs and screaming had died down a while back. Now, T'Kara was greeted only by stillness, silence, and the hellish sound of machinery. The longer it took her, the slower T'Kara was forced to go, as more newly-converted Borg came online. She had found herself ducking for cover more often and staying down longer.

But now, her companion was silence, which seemed heavenly compared to the sound of the Borg. She cautiously picked her way up the path that lead to her place of residence—her home. Other Vulcans were hesitant to use a word with such emotional connotation, but at a time like this, she needed that little stability that came with admitting that she cared deeply for her family. Love—it was something that she wasn't supposed to do. It was the love that she felt for her father that drove T'Kara to look for him.

Just before reaching the dwelling, T'Kara hesitated. Upon a whim, she decided to make her way around to the back. Entering through an open window in the back of the house, T'Kara felt broken glass under her feet. She grimaced. The window wasn't open—it was smashed in. She crept out of the room, which housed plants, and into a small hallway that led into the main room. T'Kara didn't see Tokov, Zarek, or T'Pov in the room, but she did see her father, or what was left of him. Crouching behind a wall to the side of the main archway, T'Kara tried to still her breathing. He was gone. That creature in the other room was a Borg—a shell of the good man her father used to be.

Tears threatened to blind the poor girl, but she fought back, blinking furiously. Now was not the time. She stiffened as she heard the behemoth, who was her father, begin to walk in her direction, making the detestable grinding noise that was characteristic of the Borg. T'Kara barely managed to slip into the adjoining room before it walked past her previous hiding spot. She breathed a sigh of relief as she backed into the room just in time.

T'Kara panicked as she felt the presence of something behind her. She let out a small scream of alarm that was stifled as a metallic hand clamped over her mouth. The other arm quickly pricked her neck then wrapped around her waste, effectively trapping her. In a flash of green that was a transporter, T'Kara found herself in the lair of the beast. They stood in the middle of a large room with dark grey walls.

The first thing she noticed was the voices. They were whispering so quietly that she couldn't quite make out what they said.

"Release her," said the eerie, metallic voice of a woman. In a flash, the shell that held her released its grip. She found that, no matter how much she commanded them to work, her legs would not, or perhaps, could not, hold her up. T'Kara collapsed to the floor in a heap.

She eventually hoisted herself up to see a Borgish woman walking towards her with what would usually be considered a disarming smile on her face. A once-beautiful face was connected by tubes in the back to a fully robotic suit. The seductive way she walked topped off the gruesome scene.

This woman had an air of superiority about her that quickly assured T'Kara of her authority. She was the Borg leader. T'Kara glanced at her father, who, she knew, had become a mindless killing machine, thanks to the being before her. T'Kara knew that, thanks to her injection, she was soon to follow. Something inside snapped. All of her carefully-erected defenses crumbled in the face of pure evil. T'Kara gave the monster a steely glare.

"Hello, Darling. Sorry if the boys have been too hard on you."

T'Kara was silent.

"What?" she asked. "Have you nothing to say?"

What was there to say? T'Kara fixed the woman with what she hoped qualified as a sarcastic smile. The woman destroyed her family and shredded her life.

"YOU BITCH. I sincerely hope there is such a thing as hell so you can burn in it," she seethed.

She kept her voice eerily flat to drive the dagger of her words as deep as possible. T'Kara could barely contain the anger that wished to lash out at this woman, despite the armed guards. The woman chuckled merrily, as if privy to a joke T'Kara didn't catch.

"Adorable. So full of fire, you are. Trust me, when the reality of everything hits, you'll be sobbing with the rest of the sentimentalists."

T'Kara knees were weak and she felt sweat beading on her forehead. When she reached up with her hand to wipe her forehead, T'Kara noticed that her hand was pale, with a grey tint. She breathed a sigh. It would all be over soon; she would stop hurting. She would be gone.

Her knees grew weaker, so T'Kara sat down, then and there, right in the middle of the floor. She wanted the decision to be voluntary. If her legs were about to give out, she didn't want her last action to be falling down. It was illogical, she knew, but that fleeting freedom was the only one she had left.

The voices were louder now, merging into one voice announcing one goal: assimilation. Every voice was a part of the whole, a perfectly intertwined—like a song. It had a kind of sickening beauty to it. The haunting melody was...awe inspiring. "Take her to assimilation chamber 357," said the woman—her queen.

 **0-0-0-0-0 25 DAYS LATER**

Merucus walked confidently down the hallway toward assimilation chamber 479. She was looking forward to personally overseeing the final assimilation of one of the rebellion leaders of species 3259. She was looking forward to this one.

She passed beneath one final archway before coming to the desired destination. The pale female of species 3259 looked up from the operation table on which she lay. The nanobots had not fully finished their task on the female, but Merucus was anxious to get the procedure underway despite the earliness of it. This did mean the the female was, as of yet, not fully integrated into the Collective, and quite disruptive. However, Merucus deemed the female of within a tolerable, although inoptimal, level of consciousness.

The female's eyes widened in recognition upon seeing Merucus.

"T'Kara," she croaked disbelievingly.

"No," Merucus said coldly. "T'Kara is no more. I am Merucus of Borg."

She then went about collecting the appropriate tools that were scattered on tables about the room, while her patient, T'Pov, turned her head back and stared blankly at the ceiling.

"I had chosen to believe that you had evaded capture."

Merucus found that amusing. "The child was sentimental. She had avoided capture only to walk into it when returning to her place of residence looking for her father, unit Five of Sixteen."

T'Pov sucked in a breath upon hearing that her bondmate had been assimilated. "And what is the state of my two sons, Tokov and Zarek?"

"Units Four of Eight and Seven of Seven are in maturation chambers 214 and 396," came the cold reply.

The female nodded slowly. "They fought so hard."

Merucus cocked her head. Did the female not understand? "Resistance is futile."

The female continued to nod, having heard that line many times, before turning her head toward Merucus who had stepped over to the table."Why are you not in a maturation chamber? You seem to be the only drone with any sort of individuality."

Merucus smiled and began the first incision. "The Queen says that I am unique."

 **0-0-0-0-0 2 YEARS LATER: THE YEAR 2278**

Merucus smiled as she watched the spheres go about their business. She was the mind behind the assimilation of species 5618, so she was proud. Finally! She hadn't wanted to say so, but slowly winding their way through the "Alpha Quadrant" was time-consuming. The species known as human wasn't at the top of their list, but Merucus felt a physical sense of relief. It was over. It had been organized. Efficient. The tiny planet, whose people thought themselves so unbeatable, was under Borg control. They were free. The twenty-eight starships that guarded their precious Earth were no match for her cubes. And their people were no match for her spheres. Now the annoying Federation was finally out of the way. They had time to prepare, but not enough. Now their biological and technological distinctiveness was Borg. Yes, Merucus was very proud.

An unignorable call sounded in the back of her mind. The Queen wished to speak with Merucus, face-to-face. And whatever the Queen wanted, she was given.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

Merucus walked, flanked by two guards, below a grand archway that was the entrance into the Queen's chamber. The glorious woman herself had not yet donned her suit and Merucus had the honor of watching the procedure. The Queen's biological portion, which included her head, shoulders, and spinal column, was lowered by tubes into her mechanical portion, which was her arms, legs, and torso. It was seamless and efficient. In other words—perfect. Perfect like the Borg.

The Queen walked up, embraced Merucus, and left a lingering kiss on her cheek.

"Hello, my dear. It must be a good day for you."

Merucus grinned broadly. "Indeed, it is. But you must already know that."

The Queen nodded. "True, but it is always good to carry on a conversation." She then sighed sadly. Merucus, I must admit that congratulations were not the only reasons I have called you here today."

Merucus cocked her head."Oh?"

"Yes, I also called you here to say goodbye personally."

Merucus panicked. "Goodbye?"

"Despite our wishes, your time in the Collective is over. You must continue your journey."

"The Collective is my home; the Borg are my family."

"I know, but it had to happen. It already happened, or none of this would be."

"I do not understand."

"I know, my dear," the Queen said sadly "but one day you will."

Then, she leaned in to whisper into Merucus's ear. "You must remember." The Queen stepped back with a sympathetic look on her face. "Kill her." Merucus whirled around to see one of the Borg drones raise its weaponized arm merely inches from her face. Her eyes grew round as she heard the charging sound.

Merucus never even heard the shot that killed her.


	4. A Second Chance?

_**Hello** ,_

 _Everybody (or nobody)! I just wanted to let you know that I'm currently writing chapter nine. I also wanted to ask: do you know of any TNG admiral who was a bit bitchy (not Evil, just really rude)? I have a small dialogue to fill and I don't want to write in an OC just for that. If any admirals come to mind, please leave a review or PM me. Thanks! Also, special thanks to MissMelysse for convincing me that my writing's not ACTUALLY crap! So, thank you._

 _-De Bre Layn_

* * *

The memory came in flashes. There was a moment, and then it was gone. There was fire. No, not fire, anger? It was if the anger in the atmosphere was a tangible thing. There was fighting—dying. Bad people were dying. Good people were dying. Her friends were dying. Someone shouted—but not with his mouth—that "they" had activated the weapon. Weapon? What weapon? What was going on? Who were "they"? Where was she? A woman ordered the weapon to be turned off at all cost; it was dangerous. They failed. There were explosions everywhere. More death. Chaos. Disorder. Pain. But just as quickly as it had come, the disturbing scenes faded from her consciousness.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

"NO!" T'Kara blinked awake and sat up with a gasp. She had been lying on her stomach in the gorge. There were rocks scattered around her and the dust was still settling. Her breathing was ragged as shock settled in.

"What—"

In a flash of white light, a man was standing in front of her, his arms crossed. "I told you that you'd be killed," said Q.

She stared at him for a few moments, wide-eyed. "I am...dead?"

"What? No! Why would you think that? That's completely wrong. Died is past. Dead is present."

"Excuse me?"

He sighed, obviously exasperated. "You died, but you're not dead."

She shook her head, opting to leave that line of questioning behind. "Where am I?"

"Come on. It's only been a few years."

She looked around. "This is Vulcan's Forge."

"Yep, and the year is 2262."

"But that was—"

"—Sixteen years ago, yes."

She took a moment to look at herself. "That would mean that I'm—"

"—Only six years old. Precisely!"

"Would you please stop—"

"—Cutting you off? Nope!"

"What happened to me?" T'Kara asked her question tentatively.

"You were shot. You remember that."

"Yes but—"

"—Well, I just popped in to make sure that you're okay, and say 'Hi'. Bye now."

Q disappeared in a flash, leaving behind a distinctively "not okay" T'Kara. Who were they? No, that's wrong. Who was she? Singular. The Borg no longer had their hold on her, but she felt...different. Wrong. She had been the force behind the assimilation of all those innocent people. She was no longer an innocent. The things she had seen. The things she had done...

But that had yet to happen. Somehow, she was transported eight years into the past. She could change the future. She could warn Vulcan about the Borg. They could prepare. They could survive. She wouldn't be a bad person. She would make it up to Vulcan and Earth. Especially Earth. She would warn them as soon as her kahs-wan was over and everything would be alright again.

 **0-0-0-0-0 9 HOURS LATER**

T'Kara arrived at her family home dirty and tired. Everything felt so wrong about herself, but right about everything else. The Borg had yet to arrive. She walked up the path to the house and paused at the door. What should she do? She closed her eyes to breathe a sigh but opened them wide when all she had seen was death. She had no desire to close her eyes, as that was when the Queen taunted her the most. She knew that they were only memories, but she still wanted nothing to do with them—nothing to do with Merucus.

T'Kara realized that she was still standing outside. She placed her hand on a touch console one looked into a retina scanner to unlock the door. Slowly, she stepped inside.

At first, it was silent. Then, little Tokov, only two years of age, came toddling out to greet her.

"You are alive," he stated factually.

T'Kara smiled wistfully, looking off and away from him. "Yes, I suppose. So are you."

The younger child drew his eyebrows together in confusion. "You are not well."

Now, she frowned sadly and focused on the child. He was no longer Unit Four of Eight. He was okay. Tears pricked in the back of her eyes and she impulsively leaned down and hugged him.

He squirmed out of her grasp and looked at her with wide eyes. "I will get Father."

 **0-0-0-0-0**

Tokov scampered off, leaving his older half-sister behind him. The boy located his father behind the house in a meditation spot. He hesitated before going up to the man.

"Father, T'Kara has returned from her kahs-wan."

The man continued meditating. "Yes," he said absently. "I know."

The boy hesitated again. "But Father, she is not well."

Starok was instantly concerned. As soon as he dropped his meditative shields, he recognized not only T'Kara's presence, but also her state of emotional unrest. He snapped his eyes open and looked at Tokov.

"Has she explained?"

The boy shook his head. "No, Father. But she tried to...hug me."

Starok arched an eyebrow. What was his daughter doing using a human display of affection? He stood and folded his hands behind his back, gesturing to his son not to follow him.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

T'Kara stood with her gaze locked on the entry room archway. Her mind kept flashing back to the Borg who had stood there. Her father. Her father was dead. The Borg flushed him out and used his body as a husk. She shivered involuntarily and blinked back tears. She had to get away from the memories. They were too much. She fled beneath the archway and into a room.

Belatedly, she realized that _this_ was the room that she had been taken in. Her gaze was fixated on the spot in which she had stood. Her mind replayed the scene on repeat.

 _ **0-0-0** T'Kara panicked as she felt the presence of something behind her. She let out a small scream of alarm that was stifled as a metallic hand clamped over her mouth. The other arm quickly pricked her neck then wrapped around her waste, effectively trapping her...T'Kara panicked as she felt the presence of something behind her. She let out a small scream of alarm that was stifled as a metallic hand clamped over her mouth. The other arm quickly pricked her neck then wrapped around her waste, effectively trapping her...T'Kara panicked as she felt the presence of something behind her. She let out a small scream of alarm that was stifled as a metallic hand clamped over her mouth. The other arm quickly pricked her neck then wrapped around her waste, effectively trapping her... **0-0-0**_

Suddenly, she felt a presence behind her. A hand touched her shoulder and T'Kara screamed. She collapsed to the ground in a huddled heap and turned toward the figure, desperately scooting away from the it. "No! No! Please! Not again! Please do not hurt me!" Her vision was clouded by tears but she squinted at the figure. It was a Borg. But not just any Borg. It was him. It was her father. He was the Borg!

Sobs wracked her small form as she buried her face in her knees. She was cornered. There was nowhere to run. He would take her. She would be one of them. She would not even have the privilege of being a husk. No! She would be forced to become a living, breathing monstrosity who murdered and destroyed under a twisted pretense of perfecting. It made her positively sick to think about it.

The figure bent down and reached for T'Kara. She recoiled in disgust and in terror. "No! Please just let me die!" The metallic hand hesitated. Then it touched her face. "Sleep," a voice whispered. It was his voice. It did not sound like that of a Borg. T'Kara relaxed. She could not help it. Slowly, everything faded to a relief-filled blackness.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

Starok stood and stared at the prone form of his daughter. His breathing was rather unsteady, a clear sign that he was fighting hard to keep his emotions in check. He would have to meditate for a long time over the next couple of days to calm himself from witnessing his daughter's desperate, terrified pleas. ' _T'Pov,_ ' he thought to his bondmate. ' _Please contact a healer immediately._ ' Her felt her agreement. ' _I am. I began when I felt you close your thoughts off from the bond._ ' He was aware that she could probably sense his worry— _concern_ —through their bond. It did not matter. T'Kara was more important to him than propriety.

Starok turned his back on his daughter's unconscious figure. If he was to regain his equilibrium, then she would have to be out of sight. The image of her lying crumpled on the floor burned itself into his mind and tried his usually stringent control.

Someone had hurt his daughter. When T'Kara had looked at him, she was seeing someone else entirely. Someone had shredded her mental blocks and hurt her to the point of making her desire death. Protectiveness surged within him. He wanted to keep her safe, to help her.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

T'Pov arrived, followed closely by Healer T'Nar. Healer T'Nar was a respected elder, being aged over two hundred years. The woman raised the ta'al in greeting.

"Live long and prosper Starok of T'Laleem."

He also greeted. "Peace and long life, Healer T'Nar."

The woman turned toward T'Kara. "Did you discover her in such a state?"

He furrowed his brow in an endeavor to avoid frowning at the unpleasant memory.

"No. She stood here," he gestured, "and seemed to become...frightened when I entered the room. She had just arrived from her kahs-wan."

The healer raised an eyebrow. "So you then have no idea what may have led to this incident?"

"None."

"How is it that she is unconscious?"

"I placed her in said state when I determined that she was in danger."

"What danger?"

"I was concerned that her mental well-being was suffering more damage in her state of panic."

Healer T'Nar nodded and glanced at T'Kara. "May I examine her."

"Certainly, Healer."

Healer T'Nar lowered herself gracefully onto the floor next to T'Kara. She placed her fingers on the psi points of the child's face. She began to carefully probe the girl's consciousness. After a moment, the woman scrunched up her face in concentration.

"Your daughter...she is very unique. She is gifted."

Starok nodded, despite the fact that T'Nar could not see her. "Indeed, I am aware."

He turned to T'Pov. "Please tend to Tokov, aduna. I will call for you."

T'Pov nodded and walked from the room. It was only when the door was shut behind her, that T'Pov realized that Starok had shielded his side of the bond.

Starok knelt next to T'Nar. "Whatever you know about her, you must keep secret," he whispered urgently.

T'Nar opened her eyes to glance up at him. "But she is not—"

"—I am aware. It is urgent that that remain confidential."

T'Nar nodded and turned back to focus on her work. "Then I shall not speak of it. You shall keep this secret even from your bondmate?"

"Even she."

"And do you keep it from your daughter herself?"

"Especially from she."

After a few moments, T'Nar spoke. "I am having difficulty accessing her memories. Suddenly, T'Nar sprung up, eyes wide.

Starok rose as well. "What did you see, Healer?"

"I felt fear. Such fear like I have not felt in all my days. However, I saw nothing...her mind...it repelled me."

Starok raised an eyebrow I'm askance. "Oh?"

"It is a natural, unconscious defense that usually awakens after a mental trauma, either self-inflicted or otherwise. Usually, I can navigate around them, but with your daughter being...as she is, it was not possible."

"I see. And what of your conclusion?"

"I have none. I am unsure how to proceed."

"You mentioned self-inflicted trauma?"

"Yes, her biological mind shows no signs of a forced entry." T'Nar nearly gave an audible sigh. "I believe that she may simply be reacting to the stress of a kahs-wan. Considering her...uniqueness, it is not entirely unlikely that she would suffer a mental breakdown in response to what most would consider ordinary occurrences."

Starok was concerned. "Do you have any suggestions?"

"Observe her closely. If it is determined that it is detrimental to her health to abide here, as your presence _did_ seem to be a trigger, then I suggest removing her to a secure environment."


	5. The Enterprise

_**Hello,**_

 _Sorry I published this chapter originally without an author's note. Accident. I wanted to give a big thanks to Gatherer, Aldeanna, and MissMelysse for reviewing. Aldeanna, sorry about the jumping around. It will continue but I think last chapter was the worst. Oh, and always: please enjoy and review!_

 _-De Bre Layn_

* * *

 **0-0-0-0-0 103 YEARS LATER: THE YEAR 2365**

Deanna Troi strode quickly down the hallway of the Vulcan medical facility. In her hand was the PADD that contained the patients file. The Vulcans considered this a curious case. Delusions were extremely rare to their people, even among the psychologically unsound. When Deanna found a medical journal about the patient's delusions, she had immediately spoken to the captain. Picard obliged and their starship changed course to make a trip to Vulcan especially to meet the patient.

Deanna arrived at the entrance to the suit and hesitated for a moment, then knocked. "Come in," came a woman's quiet voice from the other side. She stepped in cautiously to see a small, tastefully decorated yellow living area. A cream couch was against the back wall on on it sat a beautiful woman wearing a red medical dress. She was playing a complicated-looking game with holographic rods on the nearby table. Her hair was long and wavy, which served to evidence her years of not having access to hair-trimming tools. She looked up and smiled warmly. Despite knowing that T'Kara's mother may have not been Vulcan—having come to that conclusion by reading the file that oddly excluded any information about the woman—seeing emotions on a Vulcan face threw Deanna off for a moment.

The woman stood up and held out her hand.

"Hello, you must be Councilor Troi. My name's T'Kara and I must warn you, I believe that I am not delusional and will not be very cooperative with you telling me otherwise. Now, I would offer you refreshments, but I am not trusted with a replicator...or eating utensils."

Deanna pausing for a moment to regain her equilibrium, then chuckled. Her every sense was telling her that this woman was psychologically sound, which is why Deanna was here. "Well T'Kara, I have to tell you something. I'm not really here to be your councilor." T'Kara looked confused.

"Then why?"

"I don't believe that you're delusional."

T'Kara studied Deanna for a moment. "You're half Betazoid, so, in my presence, you can tell that I am not mentally ill. Only, you would not have been able to tell by reading the file that my doctor published to Starfleet. So tell me, what is it that brought you here in the first place?"

Deanna sighs slowly. "The ship I serve on is called the Enterprise. We recently made contact with an alien race that perfectly fits your description—the Borg."

The smile slipped off T'Kara's face. Deanna felt almost overwhelmed by the emotions coming off of T'Kara, who was now staring at some point on the wall. There was anger, fear, guilt, and worry. T'Kara's breathing rate increased and she looked at Deanna with wide-eyes.

T'Kara sensed that the councilor was telling her the truth. She desperately wished that it wasn't so. She tried to speak, but her voice only squeaked out in a whisper. "How did you escape?"

Deanna blinked. Escape? Escape what? Capture? Death? "We didn't—not alone, at least. An entity called Q got us away just in time. Technically, it was his fault that we were in that situation in the first place. But Captain Picard believes that he gave us an advanced warning."

T'Kara nodded slowly. "You disagree."

It wasn't a question, and Deanna knew it. This woman had a much-stronger empathic sense than the average Vulcan.

"Like I said, it was his fault in the first place."

T'Kara shook her head. "From what little I know of him, warnings are more of his 'thing' then punishments."

Deanna was surprised. She met Q?

Deanna quickly recovered from her confusion to smile. "Yes, well you have never seen him put the entire human race on trial."

T'Kara raised her eyebrows. "No, I guess not...So, Councilor Troi—"

"—Call me Deanna."

"Very well, Deanna, may I ask why you are here?"

"My captain wants us to be ready. We expect the Borg to come to the Alpha Quadrant and the captain told the _Enterprise_ crew to put out feelers in their respective areas for mention of the Borg. The more we know, the better we can defend ourselves. In fact, now that I have personally greeted you, I can come back and bring the captain who will discuss everything with you in more detail, that is if you're willing?"

T'Kara nodded. "Certainly. I look forward to meeting him."

 **0-0-0-0-0 IN ORBIT**

Councilor Troi stepped off the transport pad and walked through the Enterprise corridors with an absent look on her face. The Vulcan doctors at T'Kara's hospital had assured Deanna that T'Kara had no knowledge of her arrival. Deanna thought that it was best if T'Kara wasn't aware that she was being visited by a councilor. Most patients would usually go on the defensive and Deanna wanted to get a good feel for this woman. Only, she now had more questions. With no prior knowledge, T'Kara had not only known Deanna's name, but her species and occupation, all while looking and feeling like she had no idea that she was doing so.

Deanna made her way to the turbolift on autopilot. "Bridge," she ordered. It began its smooth ascent. Deanna stepped off the turbolift to see Will seated—rather comfortably and looking all too pleased with himself—in the captain's chair. She rolled her eyes at him with a small smile.

If the captain was not on the bridge, then that meant that he was in his ready room. Good. Deanna walked up to the door and rang the chime. "Enter," called the captain's voice. She stepped inside when the door slid up and took a seat in front of the desk. Captain Picard seemed practically buried in reports and glanced up. "Councilor, good. Anything to report?"

"Well, Sir, she does seem to have had some sort of experience with the Borg and she isn't insane..." Deanna dropped off into a confused frown.

"But?" prodded Picard.

"But," she resumed, "I can't figure her out."

Captain Picard set down his PADD and gave her his full attention. It was rare for the councilor to be confused about someone. "Would you care to elaborate on that?"

"Well, as I mentioned earlier, Sir, her file was in perfect order other than the omission of any psi test results and information on her birth mother. But, I believe her psi level would be much higher than average."

He frowned. "What makes you think that?"

"It was strange, Sir. I had specifically asked the staff to avoid telling T'Kara about my visit, but she still knew all about me."

Picard took a sip from a cup that, Deanna assumed, contained Earl Grey tea. "What sort of things about yourself are you referring to?"

"Well, she knew my name, the fact that I was a councilor, and she knew that I was half Betazoid; she also possesses much more of an empathic ability than most Vulcans."

The captain hummed an acknowledgment, then zoned in thought for a moment. "Simply, Councilor, one of the medical staff may have not received your request. And as to her empathic abilities, something like that happening can be rare without being unheard of."

"Yes, Sir, I suppose," Deanna said begrudgingly. She wasn't entirely convinced.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

T'Kara finished the last touches of her work on her PADD just as her visitors knocked.

"Un instant, s'il vous plaît," she called. She grinned as she heard a hurried whisper.

"You told her I was French?"

"No, Sir."

She opened the door to the bewildered captain and councilor. "Ah, Monsieur Picard, le capitain du _Enterprise_. Bonjour. Comment sa va?"

The captain blinked to recover his shock before answering smoothly, "Je suis bien, merci." He then switched to English. Probably for the councilor's benefit. "Now, how did you know that it was I outside your door, or, for that matter, how do you know that I am French?"

T'Kara stopped and squinted in confusion. "I am not sure, Sir...Suffice it to say that it feels a bit more like remembering than learning. I know that that is not the answer you were hoping for. My apologies."

Captain Picard glanced at Councilor Troi, who nodded to some unvoiced question.

He turned back to her. "Madam T'Kara, I wish to speak with you about the Borg. I want to listen to anything you can tell me about them."

T'Kara tensed up and turned her back on the duo so that they would not see the tears building in her eyes at the blunt reminder. She knew that the councilor could sense her pain, but T'Kara fought the urge to cry in front of the captain as memories—ones that she had shoved into some dark corner of her mind for years—began to play before her eyes. They started to get clearer, more precise. _The Borg. Vulcan. Earth. Destruction._

T'Kara jumped, when the councilor placed a hand on her shoulder, and turned around quickly, blinking away the tears. The images returned to their captive state to await another time to pound upon her consciousness. The captain shifted his feet awkwardly.

She gave the two guests a watery smile. "I would be happy to tell you everything I know. However, I would like something in return." Seeing the captain's grimace, she quickly said, "Do not worry. It is easily within your power, Captain. I seek asylum onboard the _Enterprise_."

Captain Picard's grimace turned into a frown. Starfleet heralds it as necessary to provide sanctuary to those who claimed it but...she was a _Vulcan_. It could possibly create a political uproar to grant her asylum from her own people, who were founding members of the Federation itself.

"Why?"

She sighed. "I have a couple of reasons. I have spent one-hundred-and-three years of my life in this facility, doing mostly reading. Consequently, I am very knowledgeable, but have never even been off planet, which was my dream as a child. I wanted to traverse the stars and explore strange, new worlds. Instead, I was deemed unstable and have not even been outside for... _forty years?_ 'Give or take', as you humans say. If my society has it's way, Captain, there will be an excuse for why I should continue being detained here, even if you verify my sanity. I am an outcast for possessing an undesirable trait: emotional freedom. It is rare, and looked down upon, for a Vulcan fall into this category. My other reason is this: in the time you spend here, however many days that could be, I will not be able to tell you everything I know." T'Kara picked her PADD and handed it to Captain Picard. The screen was split into two; one side showcased a sketch of a blueprint and on the other was scrawled a head-spinning equation that covered several pages. He could tell that part of the equation had to do with the physics of warp, but the rest...?

He glanced up at her. "What is this?"

She smiled and gently removed it from his grasp. She showed him the screen as she delegated the file. "That, my dear sir, was the only copy in the quadrant of the formula of theory _and_ the blueprint of the necessary equipment for transwarp travel."

Picard's jaw dropped for a moment before he recovered himself and closed his mouth. He realized that he had just let what could possibly be the most important step in science, since Zefram Cochrane developed the warp drive in 2063, slip through his fingers. He glanced at Deanna, who nodded. T'Kara was telling the truth. He stared longingly at the now-blank PADD that T'Kara held.

"How long have you been working on that?"

She grinned. "That, Captain Picard, is the beauty of it. I started writing it all down just after Councilor Troi left only a few hours ago."

He blinked again. "But that equation...?"

In response to the unasked question, T'Kara gently tapped the side of her skull with a smirk. "Permanently in my mind. It is one of the better results of having an eidetic memory."

The councilor spoke up. "I've heard the term before, but I'm not sure if I remember entirely what it means."

T'Kara nodded. "'It is the ability to recall and retain, with high precision, images, sounds, or objects in memory after only a few instants of exposure without the use of mnemonics—memory tricks.' That was an example in itself. That definition of eidetic memory I memorized word-for-word, but only read it once, when I was eight."

T'Kara was pleased with the fact that both of her guests looked impressed. They bid her adieu, temporarily, until they decided what to do, and left hurriedly. Sighing, she sat down on the couch to resume the Kal-Toh that she had begun earlier and wait. They would come back, she thought with a smile. She knew it.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

Captain Picard stepped of the transport pad and was en route to his ready room, frustrated. It didn't make sense. _She_ didn't make sense. It bugged him when something was that mysterious. He had an inexplicable urge to figure it out. That desire had driven him to the stars years before and now it drove him to solve the puzzle that was this Vulcan, T'Kara.

Could she be trusted. Deanna seemed to think so, but Deanna herself had said the she 'couldn't figure her out.' Was it worth jumping through the diplomatic hoops to provide her with asylum on the Enterprise? If she was really such an asset, then why was she overlooked by the Vulcan government? Maybe it was because they considered her state-of-mind untrustworthy. Or maybe, just as she had said: they dismissed her because of her decision to allow emotions. He sighed. There was no sure way of telling, was there?

"Bridge," he ordered the turbolift. A small smile teased at his lips. If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that T'Kara spoke damned-good French. If she really was such an asset, then maybe he should see what he could do.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

It was a few more hours before T'Kara's door was opened again. The captain walked in, followed by the councilor, then two security team members.

She smiled. "Captain Picard. Councilor Troi. I sincerely hope you are here for me. Are you? Because I need to get out of here. Having the staff repainted the walls only works for the first decade."

The man chuckled. "Yes, hinging on the fact that you can recreate the equation and our ship's Science Officer can verify its authenticity."

She gave a mock salute. "Yes, sir!" The captain tried his best to look annoyed with her, but she felt a little amusement from him.

T'Kara exited the suite, flanked by the security officers and followed by the captain and councilor.

A staff member hurried to them. "Excuse me, sir," she politely said to Picard. "Where are you taking this _patient_?"

T'Kara raised her eyebrows to the fact that the woman had stressed, 'patient'. She had said it was if she assumed that Captain Picard had forgotten who he was dealing with. The captain turned. "The starship _Enterprise_ has accepted her plea for sanctuary. We are taking her to the location outside from which we are cleared to transport aboard."

The woman blinked, apparently processing the information. She shook her head. "My apologies, Captain, but I can not allow that. This patient in in critical care: a unit of top priority for those who are both cognitively and emotionally unstable. It would be illogical to introduce her into an environment in which she could hurt others or herself." T'Kara barely resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. Never had she shown any violence toward her captors, but emotions and untrustworthiness were practically synonymous on Vulcan. It was simply _assumed_ that she would go on a killing spree.

T'Kara stepped forward. "In article 194 of the Constitution of the United Federation of Planets, in subsection 23, it is stated that, '...no sentient being can be denied sanctuary on board a Starfleet vessel within the first standard day of a formal plea of sanctuary. Therefore, the pleading person, or persons, can be held onboard at the captain's, or highest ranking officer's, discretion until the time has passed. At that time, the pleading person, or persons, shall be judged accordingly at the captain's, or highest ranking officer's, discretion. If found dangerous or otherwise unhealthy for crew members, the person, or persons, can then be returned into their previous state at the captain's, or highest ranking officer's, discretion, or allowed to continue aboard said Starfleet vessel...'" She then grinned sweetly. "What I wish for you to take from that, my dear, is that the decision is up to him,"—she gestured to Captain Picard—"not you." She then stepped around the staff member. "Live long and prosper," she shouted over her back with a smirk, eliciting similar looks from the Starfleet officers. She then walked to the exit, finally free.


	6. Introductions

_**Hello,**_

 _Thank you, Kallie49, for pointing out my typo last chapter. I updated the chapter and will try to remember her-on-out. Also, your statement considering her being a little different will be explained later. Remember, this is a mystery and assuming anything isn't good. That's the only hint I'll give. And to everyone else: please point out any typos you may see. I thrive on input. Thanks! Also, thank you all; this story has over 250 views! Last, but not least, I added in a little bit of Data's POV at the end of this chapter. Please review and make me all squishy inside. Enjoy!_

 _-De Bre Layn_

* * *

T'Kara strode confidently toward the doors—at least, she looked confident. Inside, she was worried. She had been gone for so long. Was she really ready to rejoin a society? She hesitated, just for a moment, before stepping through the door and out into the Vulcan night.

She gasped in delighted surprise. She had had no idea that it was evening time. She glanced up at the stars and smiled, closing her eyes for a few seconds to enjoy the feel of the hot wind. She then peaked out at the beckoning specks of light that hung from the darkness. Soon, she would be up there somewhere, leaving Vulcan for the first...second time, she thought with a wince. No, don't think about those things. There'll be time for that later, when she made good on the promise to tell Starfleet what she knew. Her reverie was broken by the chirp of a com, followed by the captain's voice ordering a beam-up.

"Wait," she said, holding up a hand at the gentleman without ever taking her eyes of the stars above her.

"Belay that order," Captain Picard said. "Is something wrong?"

She actually turned to him this time to respond. "No sir, I just... I have not felt the wind, or seen the stars in a little over eighty years. There is an indoor holodeck, but the...ill are kept from the public's eye and, therefore, from going outside. When you look at the stars on the holodeck, they just do not...feel the same. Do you understand what I mean?"

He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "I do."

She nodded and turned from the group as the captain said something about a beam-up. She sat on the ground and ran a hand through the dust, letting it slip through her fingers. The captain heaved a weary sigh and sat down gracefully beside her. She glanced at him, realizing the rest of the team had been beamed to the ship. She sighed, knowing that her little stunt was costing the captain his time, but she just could not bring herself to care. This was her home and she was going to take a moment to say goodbye.

After a few minutes of the two sitting in silence, T'Kara stood and brushed herself off. She glanced at Picard to see the he was still sitting there, gazing up at the stars. She smiled. She had finally found someone who was as enamored by them as she was. Soon, though, he stood as well and brushed of his uniform, requesting a beam up for the duo of stargazers.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

T'Kara dematerialized into a transporter room to an odd cacophony of voices at the back of her mind and the sight of, among others, a Klingon. She almost stepped back in alarm, despite his Starfleet attire and the knowledge that the Federation was no longer at war with the Klingon Empire. The captain stepped forward to introduce the man as Lieutenant Commander Worf: Chief of Security. She nodded respectively, then turned to study the others in the room. A tall young man with a beard was introduced as William Riker, the First Officer. He grinned enthusiastically and shook her hand.

"Hello, sir."

"Hi."

"You've already met Councilor Troi," said the captain.

T'Kara smiled at Deanna, then looked to the last man in the room, a tall pale man. Now, it was her turn to beam, as this was a man that she had read much about. When he made the news, a few years back, his existence pipped her curiosity and she had been following his career since.

"This is Lieutenant Commander Data, our Science Officer. He will be working most closely with you."

She nodded. "Hello. It is a pleasure to meet you. I have wanted to since I first heard about your career. I look forward to working with you."

He nodded to her. "And I you. Would you like me to show you to your quarters?" She smiled. "Certainly, thank you." Data nodded to his senior officers and the two walked from the room.

Will whistled when the duo left the room. "Looks like Data's got an admirer." He turned to Worf when the captain and councilor left the room as well. "She's quite a catch," he commented. As a response, Worf only grunted.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

T'Kara heard Commander Riker say that she was Lt. Commander Data's admirer and she bit her bottom lip. She glanced at the man, who seemed rather impassive.

"You heard that too, did you not?" she asked as the duo stepped into a turbolift.

He glanced at her, a puzzled expression on his face. "To what are you referring?"

She shrugged. "Commander Riker...he...uh..."

Light seemed to dawn on Data. "Ah, I see. Yes, I had indeed heard him make a comment about your appearance being aesthetically pleasing."

She blinked. "I didn't hear _that_." She shifted awkwardly. You have excellent hearing." He nodded and ordered "Deck Eight."

T'Kara decided to shift the conversation to work. "How familiar are you with warp theory, Mr. Data?"

"I am very familiar with it. I am a level six specialist."

T'Kara smiled. She knew that but thought it overstepping to admit so. It was overstepping to reveal little-known information about someone, right? She shrugged internally before continuing. "Good. So, what is your position on the opening of trans-warp conduits?"

Data turned fully to her, cocking his head slightly with his eyes darting about. T'Kara managed to hide her puzzled frown. Maybe that was how he processed information. After a brief moment, Lt. Commander Data nodded. "An interesting, perhaps exotic, but not necessarily nonvalitadable theory. May I ask where your theory comes from?"

She frowned, glancing down at the carpet fibers. Apparently not everyone knew about her...affiliation with the Borg, as she had originally assumed. She wasn't sure if that made it easier or harder. In a split-second decision she looked back up at him with a faux smile. "There's not much to tell. It just came to me in a brainstorm. Do you know what I mean?"

"Ah," he said. "Although I comprehend your message, I doubt that I entirely 'know what you mean' as I lack the capacity for spontaneous thought."

She blinked. "Oh. I see." She shifted position again.

The turbolift doors opened to reveal a curved, carpeted hallway. Lt. Commander Data stepped out first and T'Kara followed. He stopped in front of a door and gestured to it.

"These will be your quarters for the duration of your stay. If you require anything, please, do not hesitate to contact a member of the staff. The Captain would like to see you in his Ready Room tomorrow at 10:00 hours."

She nodded in understanding. "Thank you, Lieutenant Commander."

He nodded sharply. "You are welcome, Miss T'Kara."

She smiled. "Just, Kara, if that is acceptable to you. I wish to leave as much of Vulcan behind me as possible." He nodded again. "Very well, Kara, then I insist that you simply call me Data. Have a good evening."

She nodded a little more vehemently than the situation probably required. "And you as well, Data." He strode off and she entered her quarters with a—as the humans would put it—'smile on her face like a giddy schoolgirl'.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

It had taken a few tries to get the replicator to work as she wanted, considering the fact that T'Kara had never used one. By the time they were invented, her days were already occupied with thumb-twiddling and seeing how high she could count in her head before she lost focus. Besides, the facility staff believed that, if she had access to a replicator, she would try to replicate dangerous materials. She rolled her eyes. As a patient, she had her food brought to her since _nearly_ the beginning of her stay. She shivered in repulsion at the memories.

She brought her thoughts back to the present as her eyes happened to catch 'macaroni and cheese' listed among the suggested foods for vegetarians. She shrugged. It sounded as good as anything. "Computer: please replicate one bowl of...'macaroni and cheese.'" The syllables sounded foreign on her tongue but she shrugged it off. There were many things she had to get used to, not the least of which was the presence of so many emotional beings in such close proximity to her. Her conscious awareness of their presence seemed to increase with the time she had spent so far on the ship.

When she first transported in, it felt like someone was impatiently knocking on her mental shields. Now, a few hours later, it felt like bombs were being dropped and her shields did seem to be slipping. She grimaced and messaged her temples. "Show me a list of Vulcan pain medication." The screen on the replicator accommodated and she selected one, a bottle of which promptly replicated on top of her untouched macaroni and cheese. She huffed and picked up the bottle, proceeding to wipe away the golden-colored goop. She popped a small blue pill into her mouth and chased it down with more of the goop, which actually was tastier than it looked.

In a few minutes, the pain was gone. However, the sensations were not. She needed a distraction. T'Kara, having seated herself comfortably on the cream couch said, "Computer: play a song." The computer spoke back. "Specify Genre." "Something Human," she said, without missing a beat. "Specify Genre." She shrugged again and threw her hands up in the air. "I DON'T KNOW! What selections are there?" "Acoustic, Blues, Classical, Country, Hip-Hop, Instrumental, Jazz, National, Rock-and Roll, Vocal..." She rolled her eyes. "I understand. Do not fry your circuits. How about Jazz?" "Specify Song." She groaned into a pillow. "Pick one—a POPULAR one."

 _Eventually_ , T'Kara figured out that she rather liked Jazz.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

T'Kara stepped out of the sonic shower and asked, "Computer: what time is it?" The feminine voice responded, "It is 02:45 hours." She huffed a sigh and walked over to the replicator. She still had seven hours to kill before she would officially be given something to do by the captain. "Show me the selections for blouses with the following parameters: sheer, green or blue, loose-fitting." T'Kara smiled involuntarily when, after scrolling through some of the options, her eyes fell upon a flowing emerald sheer top. The avatar on the screen displayed the top as having one sleeve that ran to just past the wrist. The other sleeve fell off the left shoulder and was split, until the fabric met up again just above the elbow, and ended about there. The style was all new to T'Kara but the shirt was attractive. She selected it and slipped it on the find that it was as light as it looked, as opposed to traditional Vulcan wear which was cumbersome. She replicated a simple pair of plain, white pants and a pair of sandals that had faux emeralds on them to complete her stylish outfit. She surveyed herself in the bathroom mirror and smiled. She had finished off by replicating a touch of red lipstick. Almost. Just missing something. She frowned and turned to the replicator. "One white hair clip, please." It actually did as she asked without demanding clarification and she clipped her wavy black locks to the side, letting them fall over her right shoulder. Finished.

She looked up. "Computer: What time is it?" The computer responded, "03:08 hours." She huffed a sigh of frustration. Only twenty minutes had passed. What to do? T'Kara sat behind the computer terminal and twiddled her thumbs until an idea came to her. "Computer: Display crew manifest organized alphabetically by last name." It obeyed and she nodded. "Split the screen in three, on one side, display a full layout of the ship and on the other side, display the primary mission report over the Borg filed on star date 42716.3."

 **0-0-0-0-0**

It was 09:45 when the chime sounded at her door. T'Kara looked up from the computer and frowned. She didn't feel the presence of anyone out there. She was thinking about this when the chime sounded again and she shrugged.

"Come in." The doors opened to reveal the Enterprise's Second Officer. "Oh, hello Lieutenant Commander. I would enjoy speaking with you but I am due to meet with Captain Picard in a few minutes."

The android nodded. "Yes, I am incapable of forgetting. I came to escort you to the Bridge. Also, I believe we have agreed to call each other on a first-name basis. Are you rescinding the agreement."

She chuckled. "It was simply a suggestion, not a contract, Data. Thank you for walking me there."

The android nodded a little less briskly this time and plastered an imitation of a smile to his face. T'Kara chuckled as she reached to turn off her terminal. In her opinion, Data's smile seemed more like he needed to use the amenities. She walked up to him as was about to just walk out when she hesitated.

"Hold still," she commanded. She bit her bottom lip as she used her fingers to relax his cheeks and mold his lips into a more natural-looking grin. She darted into the bathroom and popped back out with a hand-held mirror.

"There. Now your smile looks much less forced."

He nodded and studied himself in the mirror before turning back to her. "Thank you, T'Kara. But now we must hurry." She nodded and followed him out.

As the duo walked down the corridors, T'Kara noticed that many of the crew they passed, specifically men, glanced at her appreciatively. She wondered if any of the emotions she felt were directed more towards her than Data. The thought made her feel awkward and guilty. Not a single one of them would want her if they knew what she had done or what she was capable of doing.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

Data stepped into the turbolift, followed silently by T'Kara. "Bridge," he ordered. The turbolift began to rise at, roughly, a rate of 1.5288 meters per second. He paid attention to the fact that T'Kara had angled her body approximately 28 degrees from him and refused to look anywhere but at the wall. He was puzzled.

"Is something 'wrong'?"

She did not answer.

She also seemed to be breathing— _question: why is an adjective usually used to describe the density of an object also used to describe a more rapid inhalation of breath than normal?_ —'harder.'

In the brief moments in which he had carried— _question: why is a word most often used to describe physical exertion also used in the context of a simple exchange of words? Do humans consider conversations taxing and therefore deserving of acknowledgement as such?_ —on a conversation with her previously, T'Kara had not ignored him. Considering this and her increased respiratory rate, Data calculated an 87% probability that something was, indeed, 'wrong'—a word with a relative definition.

"Halt," he commanded the turbolift, which promptly ceased its ascent without acknowledgement from T'Kara. In fact, T'Kara had not spoken since they left her quarters approximately 5.391758 minutes prior. He hypothesized that she had noticed the lingering glances from some—five of seven—of the crew members that they had passed. Data noted that there was a 4:1 ratio of males to females who's glances lasted from 2.473 to 5.9081 seconds longer than is considered the social norm of 1.06792 seconds spent acknowledging a stranger. Carrying on this train of thought, he hypothesized that she was made to feel uncomfortable. Conclusion: reassure her through physical support. _Objection: he had only just met T'Kara 11.55318 hours prior. Objection overruled._ He placed his left hand on her right shoulder.

T'Kara jumped and spun around to look at him. Her pupils were dilated approximately 0.0793466 centimeters and there was a buildup of moisture in the corners of both her eyes. _Conclusion: she was upset. Appropriate response: concern. Appropriate display of response: frown._ Data frowned.

"What did you say? I apologize, Data. My mind was elsewhere."

'...mind was elsewhere'—a metaphor to liken the focused thought process to being in another location. _Proper response to question and statement: acknowledgement and the restating of previous concern due to her lack of conscious awareness the first time._

"Ah," said Data. "I asked if anything was 'wrong'."

She shook her head. "No, I was simply preoccupied thinking of something."

The response was vague, indicating truthfulness, but not a subject that she wishes to elaborate on. _Response to statement: acknowledgement._ _Objection: something is bothering her. Objection overruled due to the fact that is is both a stranger and unwilling to discuss the thought process that is causing her sadness._

"I see," said Data. "Resume," he said to the turbolift, which then continued to ascent.

Suddenly T'Kara whipped around to look at him. "What time is it?"

He consulted his internal chronometer. It was 10:01.679319 hours. He decided to give her the rounded number, as his experience told him that giving milliseconds was unnecessary. "It is 10:01 hours and 42 seconds."

She bit her bottom lip. "Late to my first meeting. What must the captain think of me?"

Data wondered if that was a rhetorical question. He decided to answer anyway. "Captain Picard will probably be irritated, but not to the extent that he will mention it."

She nodded and glanced down at her outfit, smoothing down the fabric. "Do I look okay?"

He surveyed her. The white pants complimented the green top nicely and the emerald color contradicted her hair and skin in what humans would deem a attractive fashion, judging by the reactions of the male crew members they had passed. "I believe most humans would deem you aesthetically pleasing."

She chuckled. It was an almost melodious sound that he appreciated. "Thank you."

The turbolift stopped at the Bridge and the two alighted. T'Kara gave him one last smile before turning to the captain's ready room without being directed. He arched an eyebrow. Had she known how to get to the bridge this entire time? If so, did that mean that she was pleased with his company, as she did not actually need it for guidance? He pondered these and nine other, more irrelevant questions as he relieved the Beta shift officer at the science station.


	7. It Never Happened

_**Hello** , dear readers._

 _Firstly: I am so sorry for the updating issue that happened with chapters 4 and 5 both being 5. I'm not sure what happened and not a single person let me know. Ouch! Also, I got, literally, **no** feedback from the last chapter. No reviews, no favs, and no follows. So, here's my question: do you guys think this story is worth continuing? Please let me know._

 _-De Bre Layn_

* * *

It was 10:03 hours when Captain Picard heard the chime. He sighed. She was late. "Come," he called. He glanced up as the woman, Ms. T'Kara, entered. She would have looked calm and professional if not for the sheepish smile on her face. She cautiously cam to stand in front of his desk.

"Captain, I apologize for my tardiness. I was...held up."

He nodded and waved to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Have a seat, Ms. T'Kara."

She sat gracefully. "If it is all the same to you, Captain, I would prefer Kara."

He arched an eyebrow in question.

"Ms. T'Kara is a merging of your culture and mine. As I am all to eager to leave mine where it is, I plan on adopting yours. The use of informal names between those who plan on being friends is a part of it," said T'Kara.

Picard debated suggesting that she call him by his first name, but brushed the though aside. He was the captain. Fraternizing on the job was frowned upon.

The next thing she said almost as if she had read his thoughts. "Captains usually maintain a professional distance, but seeing as I am not in Starfleet, I plan on being your friend, whether or not you like it...sir."

She stated it as a challenge with an arched eyebrow at the end. It took all of Picard's diplomacy skills to keep from smiling a little. His efforts were moot, though, when he noticed T'Kara smirk at the sight of his lips barely turning up at the corners. It seemed hard _not_ to like this woman.

Captain Picard stood up and walked to the replicator.

"Can I get you anything?"

She blinked. "I...am not sure. What do you suggest?"

The captain smiled and ordered, "Two cups of Earl Grey: hot."

They materialized and he handed Kara hers.

"Try this." She smiled and took a sip.

"Very agreeable. Thank you, captain."

He sat back in his chair and looked at her as a question occurred to him. "Why are you so interested in humans?"

Kara closed her eyes tightly and bit her bottom lip. When she opened her eyes to look at him, they were shining with u shed tears.

"It is...difficult to explain, Captin. And a story that I would prefer not to remember," she said tersely, then sighed. "I have found, through personal experience, that humans can be capable of amazing feats in character. I admire your species."

Jean-Luc recognized that there was something Ms. T'Kara— _Kara_ —was avoiding. However, he understood that it wasn't his place. He nodded slowly and cleared his throat, signaling a change in conversation. "How are you settling in?" Kara relaxed and took another sip of the tea.

"The accommodations are nice and the crew is polite. You run a good ship, Captain," she complimented.

He nodded and handed her a PADD that had been resting on his desk.

"You are scheduled to see Doctor Pulaski later today. Don't worry. It's just routine. She wants to make sure that you are in good health since there is some data missing from your file."

She nodded and quickly scanned through the information on the PADD. It consisted of basic reports on what the doctor was planning on doing. Some reflex and endurance tests as well as a few in depth brain scans. She looked up with raised eyebrows.

"A psi test. Is that routine?"

He sighed. "The councilor suggested it."

She huffed out a sigh. "Ah, and I suppose the psyche evaluation was her suggestion as well?"

He smiled conspiratorially and confided, "I don't like them either."

With a small smile on her face, Kara took a sip of the Earl Grey and continued with the report, then set it on his desk. Her look of professionalism had returned.

"Then what, sir?"

He wrinkled his brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"What happens after the examinations?"

"Ah, afterwards, I will speak with Doctor Pulaski and Councilor Troy to discuss your future onboard this vessel."

 **0-0-0-0-0**

Katherine Pulaski looked up from her work as the sickbay doors opened, revealing a Vulcan woman. She glanced at the time. It was 14:00 hours exactly. She huffed out a sigh. Vulcans may be thoroughly unemotional, but let it never ever be said that they weren't prompt. _Ever_.

She stood and plastered a friendly smile on her face as she went to greet the patient, T'Kara, she reminded herself.

"Hello, I—"

"—must be Kate. It is a pleasure to meet you, Doctor."

Katherine blinked. The woman was smiling at her. Actually smiling...like, with emotions!

"I...um...you..."

The woman laughed. " _There's_ that look," she said.

Katherine recovered from her surprise enough to respond. "What look?"

"Oh, it is the same for everyone. It ranges from surprise to complete and utter shock when people see me smile. Unless, of course, the people I am smiling at are other Vulcans. Then, the emotions they express are just a hair less than your average—you know— _stone_."

Katherine was barely able to suppress a chuckle. "Isn't that—"

"—an insult to my species? Yes." Then she moved closer and looked right and left in mock alarm. She then lifted a cupped hand to her mouth and stage-whispered, "I need to watch my back. I am sure that the High Council has made some _obscure_ law forbidding that."

Now Katherine burst out laughing, making a few of the nurses turn her way. She looked sheepishly back at T'Kara.

"Nice to meet you," and she genuinely meant it. "So, what are you on board for?"

T'Kara looked uncomfortable. "Well, I think the term they are using so I can stay onboard is "Civilian Specialist"."

Kate's eyes widened. "Oh! You're _the_ specialist. Now I understand what all that fuss about one person was about."

"What do you mean?"

"Well", said the doctor while ushering the Vulcan to a biobed, then setting about gathering medical instruments and setting them beside the biobed, "the Enterprise was right in the middle of traveling through the section of space, 070-63, when something happened. Next thing you know, the ship's energy is being drained and then we get into some kind of firefight. Right after that, we are warping somewhere, fast as can be, and then we are back at 070-63, where we started. There is a long-standing investigation that led to something, but I apparently don't have high enough clearance. Then we made it a priority to pick up, some specialist from Vulcan—apparently you. I'm hoping that you'll shed some light on the situation. The crew deserves answers. Eighteen members disappeared when a piece was literally carved from the Enterprise. _Eighteen people_ and all they tell us is that the species we ran into were called the Borg. I don't care who they were, I want to know what they did to our people."

T'Kara looked the doctor in the eye coldly, a large shift from the warmth that she was emitted earlier. This woman was ranting about a situation she did not even understand!

"Allow me to answer some of your questions. If your crew members survived to be captured by the Borg, the were given treatment somewhat to the equivalent of torture, brainwashing, and death. Eighteen people is a _blessing_ , Doctor, compared to what the Borg can do. Also, they are technically not called Borg, it is simply the most apt translation into the English language, rooted from the word cyborg. And the Borg are not a species. They are a compilation of many different species—now including human."

Kate was relatively sure that her mouth was hanging open a tad. She was shocked, not just at the cruel reality of the Borg, but also at this woman's ability to relay such information without even the slightest hint of sadness. Apparently, she wasn't that different from other Vulcans after all. Of course, Doctor Pulaski didn't see her patient's hands at her sides, clenched so tight that the fingernails were just beginning to puncture the skin. Neither did she notice the ever-so-slight buildup of moisture in the corners of T'Kara's eyes. Instead, she held in a huff of irritation and silently set to work, grabbing a medical tricorder. Doctor Pulaski waved the device along T'Kara's body and frowned in puzzlement.

"What is it?" asked T'Kara.

Katherine glanced up at her. "These readings are...off. Give me a moment." She reached over and grabbed another tricorder and repeated the scan, then raised her eyebrows and tried again with yet another tricorder. "Huh..."

She looked T'Kara in the eye with a wary but curious expression. She jotted something down on a PADD and moved on to other tests. There were a couple of test of physical endurance, some blood and tissue samples, and a few other in-depth brain scans that also seemed to give the doctor pause, if not the slightest touch of anxiety. T'Kara wondered what it was that had gotten Doctor Pulaski's notice but resigned herself to the fact that that information would not be shared until the doctor reviewed it in more detail.

Finally, it was time for the psi test. Doctor Pulaski took a small, specialized scanner and ran it over both of T'Kara's temples. The doctor pulled up the scanner to review the information and started in surprise. Her eyes widened as the device slipped from her hands. T'Kara, while wearing an expression of concern, swiped the device from midair and willed herself not to look as she handed it back to the doctor.

"Are you alright, Doctor?"

Katherine simply glanced down at the psi scanner and back up at T'Kara, a shocked expression evident on her face. Even if she _had_ managed not to show it, T'Kara would have picked up on the massive waves of bewilderment and anxiety pouring off this woman. As it was, T'Kara wondered what Councilor Troy, wherever she was on the ship, was thinking. T'Kara, out of curiosity, focused in on Deanna, to find, with some amusement, that the woman had just made a 180 degree turn from her destination and was now headed in the direction of sickbay. So yes, the doctor's shock was _that_ apparent.

"Doctor, are you finished?"

Katherine blinked. "Huh? Oh, yes, I'm done. You can go." T'Kara nodded and slipped off the biobed.

"Thank you, Doctor. I await your report."

Katherine nodded absently.

"Have a good evening," T'Kara said, "I am sorry to have taken up your time."

The doctor watched her patient walk out of Sickbay before she tapped her comm badge. "Pulaski to the Captain."

His stern voice came over the airwaves. "Go ahead, Doctor."

"Could you come down here in—say—an hour? There is something you need to see."

 **0-0-0-0-0**

T'Kara strode into Ten-Forward about twenty minutes later. She tried to avoid the curious and admiring gazes as she—what do the humans call it?—bellied up to the bar? No, that did not seem right. It made no sense, but what was there to say? _Humans. No one understands them._ T'Kara was not sure if most of them even understood themselves.

"My, how the mighty have fallen."

She glanced up from being lost in her thoughts. T'Kara gaped as she realized that she was standing face-to-face with an _actual_ El-Aurian. When she realized that her jaw had rudely and forcibly become unhinged, she righted the issue then spoke, "Um, I am sorry. What did you say?" She didn't need clarification, but rather an explanation.

The woman raised her eyebrows—well, sort-of eyebrows; she did not exactly have eyebrows—and said, "I said, "Well hello, my name is Guinan."" Now it was T'Kara's turn to raise her eyebrows, as both women clearly knew that that was not what Guinan had said.

"Nice to meet you, Guinan. I am T'Kara," she said deciding to let it go.

T'Kara was inspecting Guinan's features in an odd manner, so Guinan decided to call her on it.

"Yes: I'm El-Aurian and yes: my people have not been _entirely_ eradicated by your own."

T'Kara paled. "What did you say?...No. My _kind_ is not Borg. It never... _she_ never happened. I saw such terrible things— _did_ such terrible things,...but they _never_ happened. I was transported back in time and something changed."

Guinan leaned into the bar top, resting her elbows on it comfortably, and began studying T'Kara. "You really believe that, don't you?"

T'Kara could not answer, electing, rather, to gaze down at her lap. Yes, that is what she believed. A part of her knew that there could be other explinations for the facts presented, but she chose to believe that the terrible things that had happened, had _un-happened_. It was the only way she could wake up and look in the mirror. It was the only way she could _breath_. It never happened.

Guinan frowned thoughtfully. That explinations didn't seem to fit right. She had an odd feeling, but she shook it off. "You said that you were transported through time. Was it Q?" she asked. She had felt his hand on the situation.

T'Kara seemed startled. "Um, yes. How—" Guinan cut her off, which was something she hadn't done to someone in rather a long time.

"Listen to me. Don't trust Q. Whatever he has led you to believe is wrong."

T'Kara frowned. "I understand. I do not know him well, but I guess I simply assumed... Who is he?"

"No one," said Guinan, "Pay him no mind."

T'Kara arched an eyebrow. "I find that very hard considering he saved my life, as well as the lives of billions of humans and vulcans." Guinan got that same funny feeling again. T'Kara was wrong.

"Did he? Really? Are you sure that _that's_ what happened?"

T'Kara blinked. Well, she _thought_ she was sure. She was saved from answering as another patron succeeded in getting Guinan's attention. As she was deciding whether or not to simply turn and leave, a young man sat himself down beside her and smiled. "Hi there," he said enthusiastically while extending a hand. "My name's Geordie, Geordie LaForge."

She turned to him and smiled. "Hello Geordie, my name is..." she did a quick inner check on the personality section of his file to see if he would be better as a friend or coworker. It took less than half a second. Friend. "...Kara." By now, Geordie was already staring at her with wide eyes. She figured that he must have just realized she was Vulcan as her hair covered her ears and she had been facing away from him at first. Her smile grew with his comicaly incredulous expression.

"I know, right," she asked with a grin. "I smile and I am Vulcan." Then she stage-whispered to him after looking back and forth as if to check to make sure no one was listening in. "I am pretty sure that it is a paradox, but then again, I have yet to rip the universe apart with my existence, so I guess that it is safe for you to be talking to me."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Sorry, I've just heard of Vulcans Without Logic, or whatever they're called, but you are the first one that I've actually met."

She quirked an eyebrow. "The group you are referring to are called V'tosh ka'tur. I am not one of them. They prize emotion above logic, whereas I wish there to be room in my life for both. I wish to be able to control my emotions without burying them and I wish to use logic when making decisions. What I seek is not one or the other, but a balance between the two."

Geordie whistled appreciatively. "You lost me, but I think I get the gist of it."

She chuckled. "Are theology and philosophy not your forte, Mr. LaForge?"

He mock-grimaced. "No Mr. LaForge stuff. I'm just Geordie, and yes. Philosophy was the only course I had to retake at the Academy. Thinking beyond the here and now—nope! Give me a warp core breach any day."

They both burst into laughter. T'Kara was certain that if she had been drinking anything at that moment, it would have come out her nose.

The laughter died down and Geordie looked back at Kara. Her eyes were twinkling in amusement.

"So, Kara, what brings you aboard the Enterprise? The only person I know we were picking up from Vulcan was some Borg specialist or whatever. You do not look like a stuffy, old Borg specialist."

She smiled, but he realized that it was now more forced, judging by the way her muscles in her face were held. "Shame on you, Geordie. You should respect your elders. I am old, by human terms,—107 years to be precise."

A nagging voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she should have added at least 13 years to that total, but she firmly pushed it away. _It never happened_.

Geordie figured that gaping at her was rather rude, but he just couldn't help it. It was one thing to know that their species live longer than yours, but it was another thing entirely to meet a woman who looked to be about thirty, but was around when your great grandmother was. "Wow," he said. "May I say, you look utterly fantastic for your age." Geordie saw heat rising in her cheeks and realized that she was blushing ever so slightly.

"Why thank you Geordie."

He grinned. "Hey, it's true. So, welcome aboard. Has anyone shown you around?"

She sighed. "Not really. I have been basically showing myself around. So far, I have been to the bridge, sickbay, Ten-Forward, and my quarters."

He frowned. "Well then, let's fix that. I'll show you around."

She practically beamed. "That would be fantastic. Thank you."

Geordie hopped down from the stool and offered her his arm. "My lady." She chuckled, took it, and walked out of Ten-Forward with him.

Guinan sighed, watching the two walk out. It was obvious that Geordie was already quite taken with the woman. However, Guinan noticed something that Geordie had not, T'Kara's subtle redirection from the subject of her past with the Borg. Guinan frowned. The Borg were not even the half of it. There was much more to that woman that anyone knew. Indeed, even much more than even T'Kara, herself knew. Guinan sighed and got back to work. It wasn't her story to tell, but part of her wished that T'Kara remembered. Guinan surmised that it was probably best T'Kara didn't remember where she came from. It was sad that things had to be this way, though.


	8. Questions and Answers

Captain Picard walked briskly into sickbay.

"Where is Doctor Pulaski?" he asked a passing Ensign.

The young woman gestured towards the doctor's private office.

"You wanted to see me, Doctor," he said to announce his presence when he entered.

Katherine and Deanna were both hunched over the computer, frowning. Doctor Pulaski looked up when he spoke.

"Yes, Captain. Come look at this. Sorry I didn't call you down immediately, but I wanted to be sure it was as bad as I thought it was."

That peaked his curiosity. "To what are you referring, Doctor."

Deanna backed from the computer to give him room when he approached.

"This," said the doctor.

The captain frowned in confusion. He was looking at four different wavelengths lines, a line with barely a wave, a long one, a tighter, but still long one, and a thick, strait one.

"What am I looking at here, Doctor?"

Katherine explained, "These are the computer's interpretation of psi readings. The basically flat one is the average Human reading, the long one is the average Vulcan reading, the tighter one is the average Betazoid psi reading and this last one, that's the hypothesized psi reading of the Vulcan woman, T'Kara."

He frowned. "It's just a flat line, albeit a thick flat line but—"

Deanna piped up. "—No, Captain. That is our best guess of what T'Kara's psi level would be. The waves should actually be tighter than that, but it's impossible."

Jean-Luc raised an eyebrow. "So this," he gestured to the line, "is not a thick line, but rather an unbelievable frequency suggesting an outrageously large potential for psychic abilities?"

Both women nodded. "Yes," they said in unison.

"Captain, you don't understand," said Deanna. "Vulcan emotions, they're unpredictable, chaotic. If she decided that she hated someone then, in theory, she could kill that person in front of everyone and no one would lift a finger just because she didn't want them to."

Jean-Luc frowned. "Is there evidence that she has used any such abilities on the crew?"

Deanna hesitated. "Well, no. In fact, I'm not certain, but I think that she is mostly unaware of them. That's the key: being not only capable, but aware." He nodded in understanding.

"Is there anything else, Doctor?" Katherine nodded.

"Actually, yes. Look here."

She changed the screen. Now it showed two strands of DNA.

"Vulcans keep a biological DNA print of practically every member of their species. There is actually a database that they use to track their lineage. I input T'Kara's DNA to try and locate her mother." Pulaski sighed.

"And?" urged Picard.

"And...nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Exactly. You see, through DNA, Vulcans can trace their ancestors back nearly a thousand years. If I wasn't able to locate her mother, then I should be able to locate her mother's parents, or their parents, or even their parents, but instead I found nothing. Not even some distant cousin on that side."

"Which suggests?" asked the captain.

"We're not sure," chimed in Deanna. "She's entirely Vulcan, that much is certain. We still have the computer running an analysis on her father. It could mean that she is a modified clone of him or..."

The captain turned to Deanna, "Or?" he probed.

"Well, our other guess was that she could have been genetically engineered."

Jean-Luc nodded. "That could explain the psi results."

"It could," said Pulaski, "and it would explain something else I found, but it wouldn't be able to explain this."

Once again Katherine changed the computer screen. Now it showed a multi-dimensional network of branches.

"It's hard to explain, but she has more knowledge than would be possible."

"What do you mean?"

"Captain, these are her synapses, or—again—our best estimate of them. They are both thicker and more plentiful than I've ever seen in an individual. Her crystallized intelligence, memories, and knowledge is off the charts!"

"But most of it is suppressed," explained Deanna. "By sheer force of will, she buried practically all of them. That is not to say that she can't consciously access them, just not all of them and just not all of the time. It's incredible. If it wasn't for the memories, she wouldn't have such plentiful synapses, but if she didn't have such plentiful synapses, then she would have forgotten all those memories. From what I can tell, she was overloaded with memories and her mind simply accommodated."

"How do you suppose someone could be "overloaded with memories"?"

"And therein lies the mystery," said the doctor. "I have no clue."

"A very complicated mystery, so it seems," said Captain Picard. "Councilor, when is your appointment with Ms. T'Kara?"

"19:00 hours, sir."

"Good. Report to me when you are finished."

"Yes, sir."

"And Doctor."

"Yes, Captain?"

"Keep me posted."

"Aye, Captain."

Jean-Luc nodded and walked out, already diverting some thought to the confusing mystery that is his ship's newest passenger.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

"Hold on," said Geordie. "So, Vulcans have _porn_?! No way!"

They were walking together down a corridor. Geordie discovered rather quickly that he liked it when Kara blushed, and so he brought up topics like this one. T'Kara did indeed look embarrassed.

"We do, however it is quite rare. One has to set out searching. You can not just _stumble_ upon Vulcan porn."

Geordie grinned. "Then how do you know it exists?"

She stopped and stuttered. "Well I... _I_ do not...I knew someone!"

The look on her face was priceless. Geordie burst out laughing. "Relax. I'm joking. You don't seem like the kind of person to buy porn anyway."

She breathed a sigh of relief as they continued walking down the corridor. Geordie was still chuckling under his breath.

The two arrived back at her T'Kara's door. "Back by midnight, safe and sound," Geordie said.

She smiled. "Thank you for showing me around, Mr. LaForge."

He rolled his eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you? It's Geordie. And you're welcome. Sorry you don't have clearance to see Engineering."

Kara nodded. "It is fine, Geordie. It was nice meeting you."

He beamed. "You too." Now he looked down and shuffled his feet a little awkwardly. "Hey, uh, do you want to have dinner some time?"

Now the awkwardness lay at Kara's feet. "Mr LaForge... _Geordie_ ," she sighed. "How do I say this?"

Geordie already looked like someone kicked his puppy and Kara felt bad for him. "I am, well...I have a lot of ' _baggage_ ', as you humans say. I am not certain what type of person would be able to handle me, but I...do not believe it is you. I...I am sorry. I want to be friends. Is that a possibility?"

He nodded slowly and breathed a sigh. "Yeah, yeah it is. I just thought that trying couldn't hurt."

She gave him a small, sad smile. "You are a nice man, Georgie. I just do not believe that I am the one for you, or vice versa.

He nodded slowly, not meeting her eyes. "Okay. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

The door whooshed closed and T'Kara breathed a sigh, leaning her head against it. "I apologize. How did I miss the obvious?" She stepped back and into the bathroom and grabbed a hair brush, trying the tame her hair, all the while carrying on an inner dialogue with herself. 'I knew he was attracted to me, but I did not think...I did not think...' She set down the brush and leaned on the counter, frowning at herself in the mirror. 'What did I think?! No. No no no, that is exactly it. I was not thinking. I was so busy focusing on what that bar tender said that I could not focus on the situation at hand. This is not happening again.' She re-clipped up her hair and reapplied her makeup.

"Computer: What time is it?"

The monotonous female voice responded, "It is 18:12 hours."

T'Kara nodded. That meant that she had less than an hour to meditate as she was to meet the councilor at 19:00. She grabbed a Vulcan meditation mat and candle that she had had replicated the day prior and laid them out. Sitting down in a meditative position, T'Kara strove to find an inner balance.

 **0-0-0** _Minds. So many, busy minds. So many memories—none of them hers. So much sorrow, joy, despair, confusion, discontentment, anger...fear. Oh the fear. The fear was the strongest—the most recent of the emotions. It was widespread. In the end, only a few were not afraid...and then...no more fear ever again. They're coming this way! Jamie?! Where was Jamie?! She had to find..._ **0-0-0**

T'Kara shoved her thoughts back to a dark corner of her mind and peaked an eye open when the chime on her door drove her from meditation.

"Come in," she called unsteadily. She raised her eyes to the sight of the councilor.

"Oh, sorry I interrupted you," Deanna said. "You didn't show up our cession and I was worried."

T'Kara frowned as she blew out the candle, rolled up her mat, and stood up. "Computer: what time is it?"

The disembodied female voice responded, "It is 19:26."

T'Kara looked at Deanna with a horrified expression. "Oh! I am so sorry! I must have lost track of the time meditating. I could have sworn that it had only been fifteen minutes!"

"It's fine," Deanna said as T'Kara waved her to sit.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"Hot chocolate would be great. Thank you."

T'Kara walked over to the replicator and ordered one hot chocolate and one mug of hot Earl Grey tea. Deanna raised an eyebrow.

"Did the captain corrupt you already? Try some hot chocolate."

T'Kara forced a chuckle. "Chocolate? Are you trying to get me intoxicated, Councilor?"

Deanna blinked. "What? Oh! Vulcans and sugar—I forgot about that. Sorry... You, know, it really is a shame that Vulcans have to avoid chocolate. It is the most wonderful thing and I think it should count as a vegetable."

T'Kara smiled, thought it was still a little unsteady. "Should I leave you two alone?" she asked, gesturing between the councilor and the cup of hot chocolate.

Deanna smiled in glee, trying to get Kara to relax. "If you know what's good for you, yes."

At that, both women burst into laughter, silently agreeing to be friends. Deanna glanced curiously over at the meditation mat.

"I was under the impression that Vulcans meditated to purge their emotions."

"Usually, yes, that would be true. However, I am somewhat incapable of functioning without them. I find myself meditating, not to purge my emotions, but rather to control them. If I simply let my emotions control me, I would be unpredictable. I aspire to a balance of both logic and emotion. That being said, I try to make all important decisions with logic."

"Such as?"

"Such as attempting to convince the captain and yourself to allow me sanctuary."

"Were you unhappy at the institution?"

"Quite frankly: I was bored. I stared at the same four walls while the same type of doctors came in and asked me all the same questions. After time, when nothing happened, I even began to believe that I had gone insane. That I _belonged_ there—not that I let anyone else know that. Then you showed up and I realized that I was not so... _lucky_. The Borg were real and I could help; I could provide, at least, information. I would not let myself sit idly by as they plan their next move."

"So you believe that the Borg _are_ attacking?"

"Well, not at this moment, but soon. Now that they have discovered the Federation and know where it is, they will come."

Deanna frowned. "You sound very sure. How do you know what the Borg will do?"

T'Kara froze, then paused for a long while. Deanna had begun to think she wouldn't answer when T'Kara spoke, her voice barely a whisper.

"I had hoped, however illogically so, that you would not ask me that. I have not been able to find an acceptable response."

"How about the truth?" Deanna asked quietly.

T'Kara stood and walked to the window. She stared out at the stars, which were going by at a slow, steady pace. Deanna watched patiently. Finally, T'Kara spoke.

"The truth from what viewpoint? The truth, as I know it, may not be the full truth. I do not have all the answers."

"But you have _some_ ," Deanna prodded.

T'Kara went silent for a while longer. Deanna could feel the waves of pain and guilt coming from the woman. T'Kara turned back from the window to look the councilor in the eyes for the briefest of moments. It was long enough for Deanna to see the look in T'Kara's eyes. They looked haunted and old—it was the kind of look that Deanna had only heard about from councilors who deal specifically with trauma victims. T'Kara then took her place siting across from Deanna and closed her eyes. With a broken voice, she began speaking.

"I was very young and naive when it happened, only twenty years old. It was the year 2275. It was a normal day of study, until Q appeared in my instruction program. He warned me that a terrible species was coming to Vulcan. He told me to get away...I refused to believe him...but he was telling the truth. The Borg came. They asked for me _specifically_. I never knew why... It happened so quickly that we had no time to defend ourselves. I was captured. Manipulated, but at the same time _free_. They made me do horrible things I can _never_ forgive myself for...Then, one day, I was called in and...killed...for no reason...Then I just woke up. Q was there. He told me I was back on Vulcan _years_ before any of it had began...So I returned home. I tried to warn my family. I tried to warn everybody...They just thought that I had gone insane. And then you show up. Now, I am here."

Deanna was shocked, _mortified_. She had no idea what the Borg did to T'Kara, but it caused this woman so much _pain_. And this all was one of Q's sick games? Was he the root of this? She had realized that Q was a schemer, but this...? This was beyond terrible. This was monstrous. She decided. However T'Kara was involved in this, she was a good person. In fact, she—if anything—was the victim in this fiasco. Deanna stood and walked over to T'Kara. She reached for the woman's hands and simple held them, showing her support.

"It wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was. It all was. Those poor people."

Deanna was hit with another painful wave of guilt and frowned in confusion. "No. What makes you say that? Why do you blame yourself?"

T'Kara avoided answering right away. After a little bit, Deanna realized that T'Kara was not planning on answering at all. Instead, the troubled woman took in a shaky breath.

"My apologies, Councilor. I should obviously meditate more."

Deanna smiled. "It's just Deanna. And okay, I'll leave you to it." She stood up and made to go.

"Thank you, for everything."

Deanna nodded. "Come and see me anytime."

"If the captain agrees to allow me to stay onboard, I believe I should."

Deanna smiled reassuringly. "I think he will."

"Thank you—Deanna. Have a good evening."

"You too." And she left.

T'Kara sighed and glanced out again at the passing stars. She rolled back out her mat, for she again needed to find her equilibrium.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_

 _Yeah. My boring comments are at the end of the chapters now. Look at me! "I'm sooooo changeable!" (Smirk) Also, I'm REALLY sorry these last few chapters have been posted a little later than usual. You know the drill: school. So, chapters may not be regular for the foreseeable future. Again, so sorry. But I would like to reiterate that I'm not abandoning this story! Also, I'm still looking for a Beta, so tell all your friends and THEIR friends and THEIR pets. Last-but-not-least: please review! I live on feedback. I have plans, but your ideas could be incorporated. Tell me what you think is going on with T'Kara and the Borg. I'll tell you this: She's wrong; it did happen. So, please take a moment to impart on me your genius comments. Thank you!_

 _ **-De Bre Layn**_


	9. Choices and Problems Arise

The next morning, Captain Picard looked up when the chime to his ready room rang. "Enter," he called. In walked Deanna.

"Councilor," he acknowledged. "How did your meeting go with our new guest?"

She came to stand in front of his desk. "Enlightening."

He gave her a questioning look. "What can you tell me about her?"

Deanna looked apologetic. "Not much, Captain. Doctor-Patient Confidentiality. But I can say that I believe she's simply the victim of one of Q's games. She was in close contact with the Borg though. I believe she can be a valuable asset. However, I would like to see her at least once a month. She went through something rather painful and has only covered it up over the years."

Jean-Luc raised an amused eyebrow. "What makes you think I'll allow her to stay?"

Deanna smiled. "Multiple reasons: 1) You both share that drive to help when possible, 2) She could represent a breakthrough in FTL travel, and most importantly, 3) Captain, you love a good mystery." Jean-Luc fought a smile that threatened to slip through. "Thank you, Councilor. Dismissed."

Deanna nodded and walked out, a respectfully small smile playing at her lips.

The door closed and Captain Picard stopped fighting. The corners of his mouth twitched upward of their own accord. Deanna was right. He did love a mystery. This mystery, however, seems a tiny-bit more attractive than most.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

T'Kara was sitting on her couch, quietly sketching a Borg uni-complex on her PADD. She blinked, looking back at what she had drawn, and shivered in a mixture of disgust and fear. It was just so wrong. She had an almost burning desire to delete the sketch. Better yet, she wanted to melt the PADD itself, or burn it, or disintegrate it, or freeze and shatter it. She was flexible as long as the drawing ceased to be. The Borg were terrible. They were awful. They were disgusting. As such, the picture had no right to exist. Not deleting the picture felt like some sort of silent agreement to put up with all that the Borg were. However, T'Kara's better judgement allowed her to hold off on slinging the PADD across the room in disgust. She finished the sketch and saved it to her computer alongside the dozens of other sketches she had done last night. They could be helpful to the Federation as blueprints or with intelligence reports. They depicted various Borg cubes, spheres, anatomical pieces, weapons, cybernetic implants, regeneration alcoves, and so-forth. She realized that a sketch of the Queen was missing from her collection. She grimaced, opened a new file on her PADD, and began to draw.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

The com badge she had been given beeped. "Captain Picard to T'Kara."

She tapped it. "Yes Sir?"

"Report to my ready room."

She bit her lip and grinned. "Actually, Captain, as a _civilian_ , I am on my way to the holodeck. Then I am going to the mess hall to have lunch. I believe I am free after that... No, sorry. How about tomorrow...Sir?"

She allowed just enough of teasing into her tone to remind him that she was not under his chain-of-command, but not enough to really offend him. She heard him huff.

"Please." He amended. He spit it out like the words were bitter.

She chuckled. "I will be there shortly, Sir."

Another huff. "Thank you. Picard out."

She shook her head and grinned. It seems that Picard had been a captain for far too long. He needed to loosen up a bit. And that was coming from a _Vulcan_! She had to admit to herself, though, that she was a bit atypical for a Vulcan. Still... _irony._

She glanced down at the hideous picture in her hands and curled a lip. The Queen. Her whole body tensed at the sight and actually started to quiver in anger. Before she knew what she was doing, T'Kara had flung the PADD from her hands and against the furthest wall with as much strength as she could. The PADD shattered on impact. She glanced at it as she slipped on white flats. It sat there looking almost dejected—if shards of electronics could look dejected, that was. T'Kara scoffed at herself. It was just a PADD, after all. Now, of course, it was not even that. She would deal with that mess later.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

The captain looked up when the door to his ready room announced a visitor. "Enter," he called out. And in she came. T'Kara was dressed simply in a white blouse and medium blue slacks. Her black hair fell over her shoulders, covering her pointed ears. He noticed that she must have trimmed her eyebrows, as they were less inclined. In fact, she looked almost human.

"Good morning, Captain Picard," she said.

He nodded. "Good morning. Have a seat."

As soon as she did he folded his hands and laid them on the desk. They sat there silently for a moment, studying each other. Finally, he sighed.

"The Enterprise isn't safe. We loose people— _good, deserving_ people. The safest, most _logical_ , place to be as a civilian specialist would be at Starfleet headquarters or even a starbase. Not here. So why do you want to stay onboard the Enterprise?"

She smiled, having apparently thought that over already. "On its most adventurous day, a starbase _might_ rotate the opposite direction or move a few hundred meters. Even that can not be said about Starfleet headquarters. The people there get to read the reports made by the people here. This is where history happens. This is where alliances are forges, new civilizations are discovered, and new planets explored. Out here is where the questions are answered and new ones arise. Who wants to sit and read about all those amazing experiences if you have the chance to witness them firsthand? Let me tell you: I sat and read reports for ninety years. It is _terrible_."

He leaned back and smiled wistfully. That sounded familiar. How could he deny her the opportunity to experience that which they both craved? Deanna said that she wasn't a danger, and Deanna, of all people, should be able to tell.

"If you stayed onboard, you would need to make yourself useful to Starfleet by supplying them with information and working on transwarp theory, like you promised."

She nodded. "I would."

He smiled and stood, offering a hand to shake. "Then welcome to the U.S.S. Enterprise."

He was caught off guard when she jumped up and, rather than shaking his hand, hugged him with glee. He went stiff. He noted absent-mindedly that her hair had a faint, pleasant aroma to it. She moved back with a grin.

"It is okay that you were surprised, Captain. That was my first hug ever _as well_." she teased. He straitened up and smoothed out his uniform.

"Yes, well..." He wasn't quite sure how to respond.

She chuckled. "Relax, Picard. Being a little less of a brick wall when your subordinates are not watching does, in no way, lessen your credibility as a captain."

He sighed again and shook his head before beginning to chuckle. She joined in.

When they stopped, Picard regarded T'Kara curiously. She didn't flinch under his gaze and even returned it.

"T'Kara—" he began.

She corrected, "—just Kara."

He sighed. "If you insist that I call you Kara, then you must call me Jean-Luc."

She smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Why else do you think I insisted that you call me Kara? "Captain", by itself, is a dehumanizing term. I do not want it to become difficult to see the man behind the rank. Oh, and thank you."

He shook his head. "Are you going to be this much trouble for everyone on my ship?"

"Only if I feel like it."

"Perhaps your acceptance was premature."

Kara mock-gasped. "You would not _dare_."

He leaned forward and raised an eyebrow. "Try me."

She returned his stare for a heartbeat before letting up and chuckling. "So there _is_ a human being behind that title. Now, I should leave before you make good on your threat and ship me off to Deep Space 7 or someplace equally horrid. Good day...Jean-Luc."

He nodded. "And you, Kara."

The door whooshed closed behind T'Kara and Captain Picard sighed and sat down again. He started going through a report Will brought him earlier. About halfway through it, his eyes widened and his face went pale. Had he just been _flirting with her_...and enjoying it? He heaved a sigh and whispered, "Merde."

 **0-0-0-0-0**

T'Kara wandered into an observation room absent-mindedly. If she was being honest with herself, she would have admitted that she was drawing out the return to her quarters. She did not want to face the monsters she had drawn on her PADD and saved to her computer. Part of her wished that they had been destroyed when her PADD had been, but no such luck. It was if not looking at them meant that they were not still there lying in wait for her. She shivered at the thought, despite the pleasant temperature. She looked out at the stars and realized that she did not even know where the Enterprise was headed. She was simply along for the ride.

She heard the door open behind her and recognized the presence that entered the room. It was Georgie. She suppressed a sigh and turned to face him.

"The computer said I'd find you here. Listen: I want to apologize for the other night. I kind of put you on the spot."

She smiled, somewhat relieved. "There is no need to apologize, Geordie. Honestly, there were many ways I could have handled that conversation better. I hope I have not ended our chance of being friends."

He beamed. "What? No! I'm just glad you're still okay with hanging out with me!"

She chuckled, then a thought hit her. "Oh! Captain Picard officially decided to allow me to stay onboard."

His eyes widened. "That's terrific!"

She nodded. "Now that I have clearance, do you believe that you could give me that tour of Engineering?"

Geordie nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, you bet. Glad you're staying."

The duo stepped out into the corridor.

"Well, it's actually not my shift so I'm not quite sure who's working. I do know that we're in the process of trying to get an extra four percent of efficiency from the ship's dilithium matrix, so it'll be a mess."

She raised an amused eyebrow as they headed to turbolift three.

"Four percent?"

Geordie shrugged. "You never can be too efficient."

She conceded. "True... Commander Data is Ship's Officer, right?"

He frowned. That was a bit random. "Yeah...Why?"

She sidestepped the question. "Nothing, really. I simply need the Ship's Officer's, and therefore _his_ , permission to create a project in the holodeck matrix."

"Oh, yeah. Personal project?"

"No. Work."

Geordie frowned internally. It was odd. As soon as they started talking about whatever 'project' T'Kara was planning on working on, she had tensed up. First, she had sidestepped his first question and then she answered his second rather shortly.

"Hey, Kara. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

She smiled, but it seemed sad somehow. "You have done nothing wrong, Geordie. It is all on me."

Her shoulders sagged a little and she started looking out at something far away. Geordie wondered if what she said had some sort of double-meaning. But, it's possible that getting sad randomly was just something that came with being a specialist on such a horrendous species, such as the Borg. Maybe there was more to her than there seemed, but he had to admit that he hadn't seen her file, so he wasn't sure.

The turbolift arrived at Engineering and Geordie noticed how Kara snapped back to the present. She was immediately alert. The doors opened, not to a frenzy of activity, but rather to about ten crewmen smoothly going about their business. The only one of the personnel he knew that she had met previously was Commander Data. Little did he know that she had read the other's files her first evening onboard, so he pointed a few of the key personnel out. The consoles around this section of Engineering were lit up like Christmas. Geordie smiled a little at their efficiency. He liked to show off how well his people worked.

T'Kara walked through Engineering with her hands behind her back. The crew were working efficiently...for humans. For Vulcans, it would be more like _sufficiently_. However, it seemed like Geordie was proud so she tried to look impressed. She had to admit, though, the technology was impressive, and she said as much to Geordie.

"Thanks," he said. "State of the art." He patted a console lovingly and T'Kara raised an amused eyebrow.

"Am I intruding, Geordie?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Na. I'll share. Now, over here we have the..."

But T'Kara had stopped listening. She was fixated on an ensign who was carrying mechanical parts. He had a few boxes balanced precariously. On top of the stack was a laser spanner. It was wobbling precariously on the top box. Her eyes widened. The device fell. She dived for it and groaned when her shoulder hit the deck hard. She stood quickly as everyone turned toward her. The man, who had now set down his pile grinned at her in amusement.

"Thanks, but that wasn't necessary."

She raised an eyebrow in askance. "Oh? This laser spanner is set to the frequency of isolinear chips. If I had not been here to catch it, it would have fallen and gone off accidentally. Furthermore, it was pointed toward that console," she gestured, "which happens to control the flow of the warp core coolant. If the isolinear chips in that circuitry had been damaged, this ship could have had a warp core meltdown. So do try to be more focused in the future."

She turned back to Geordie and smiled politely. "Sorry. Now, where were we?"

He stared at her, frowning in puzzlement, as they continued walking.

Behind her, she heard the man whisper to a fellow engineer, "I might have been more focused if she hadn't distracted me with that tiny little ass of hers." Indignation flared within her just as Geordie began to speak.

"How did you—?"

"Excuse me again," she ground out.

She whirled around and marched back up to the man. "Leon Rodinsky, you would do well to remember that Vulcans have superior hearing to that of humans. Next time you desire to make a comment on how distracting my "ass" is, I strongly suggest that you keep it to yourself! I understand that your wife announced her plans to separate frobm you, but that, sad though it may be, is no excuse for your behavior! Is that clear?"

The wide-eyed ensign looked like he had soiled himself a little. "Ye...Yes ma'am." Then he scrunched up his face in thought. "But how did—?"

She held up a finger to silence him. "Unless you want to wind up in sickbay with a broken nose, I suggest you get back to work." He nodded vigorously.

T'Kara sighed, turned back to Geordie, who now was gaping, and closed her eyes. She took a calming breath and then opened her eyes, seeming to have return

ed to normal. Of course, only she knew that she would have to double her meditation time that evening.

"My apologies, Geordie. I will not interrupt you again."

Geordie still looked surprised, glancing repeatedly between Kara and Rodinsky, but he shook it off. "Ooookay. Now...over here we have the..."

 **0-0-0-0-0**

Data stood in the corner, still mulling over the previous scene and subsequent conversation. Most everyone, it seemed was too shocked by the concept of an angry Vulcan to actually process what had taken place. Her original assessment of the consequences of dropping that laser spanner were accurate. Far more accurate and efficient than the capabilities of any other living creature he knew. That, in itself, was odd. What was even more odd was the conversation that had taken place after she and Geordie had left the room. The man Rodinsky was confiding with earlier had leaned towards the shocked ensign.

"Man, Shelly's leaving you?"

Rodinsky had sighed and responded, "Yeah. But here's what's weird: Shelly only called this morning. I haven't even told anyone yet. How'd that freak-of-a-Vulcan know?"

' _Yes_ ', pondered Data. ' _That was "weird". Very "weird" indeed_ '.

* * *

 _ **Hello, Everybody!**_

 _Good news: I'm not dead. It WAS hard to tell, but I have returned. If you were wondering about the whole "T'Kara" vs "Kara" thing, let me explain: only her genuine friends will use "Kara". It will be a bit of a cheating way to tell who is who, in the future. Also, this story will be a LOT like the movie Groundhog Day when it comes to scene development. I will write in the important parts, but sometimes I'll be brief in the backstory, sometimes I'll leave the rest to your imagination, and sometimes the backstory will be something I had already written. Don't worry, that is still WAY in the future and I'll make it clearer when we get there. But basically, there's just too much in-between stuff for you not to get bored. And I got off on a tangent. Oops! So basically: I didn't drop off the face of the Earth, I AM actually going somewhere with her name vs nickname, and questions or comments? PLEASE REVIEW!  
_

 _ **-De Bre Layn**_


	10. Confronted with the Truth

Near the end of the day shift, Captain Picard was startled out of reading his report when the chime to his ready room rang. "Come," he replied automatically. The doors parted to reveal Commander LaForge. The engineer came to stand in front of his desk and shifted awkwardly.

"Do you have a moment, Captain?"

Picard frowned. "Certainly, Commander. Is there a problem?"

"I'm...actually not sure, sir. I had a little...incident with the new civilian specialist, T'Kara, down in engineering."

 _'Already?'_ he thought. Jean-Luc raised an eyebrow. "What kind of 'incident'?"

"Well, Ensign Rodinsky almost dropped a laser spanner. Kara caught it and told him to be more careful. He wasn't convinced that it was a problem, but she pointed out that it could have caused a chain of events that could have led to a core meltdown. I have to admit, sir...it looked like she COULD have been right. Anyway, she dropped it, but it seemed as if Ensign Rodinsky made a sexist slur of some sort. She berated him but she...also said something rather _odd_."

"How so?"

"She said that Rodinsky was under a lot of stress from his wife leaving him, but that was no excuse for his behavior. Only, Rodinsky approached me at the end of his shift. He said that his wife only called this morning and he hadn't mentioned it to anyone yet. I understand that Vulcans are touch-telepaths, but she never touched him. And even if she HAD, she doesn't seem like the kind of person to look at personal things like that."

Captain Picard was deep in thought. He glanced up. "Thank you, Geordie. Is either of them planning on filing an incident report against the other?"

"Not to my knowledge, no sir."

"Thank you. That is all."

"Yes sir." And with that, Geordie began to walk towards the door.

"Oh, and Geordie? Is there a recording of that conversation?"

"Well, we had the computer down for maintenance, so I don't think so...Oh! But Data was working that shift."

"Thank you, Commander."

"Aye-aye, sir."

 **0-0-0-0-0**

Geordie walked out of the ready room and breathed a sigh. The captain hadn't seemed as startled as he'd expected. Geordie wondered in maybe Kara had already done something like that. He grimaced. She seemed like a nice person. He hoped that something wasn't wrong. For all he knew, she was actually a telepathic slug in a Vulcan suit. He chuckled at that thought as he stepped into the turbolift. With the track record of _this_ ship, he shouldn't be surprised if the answer WAS something bizarre like that.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

"Commander Data, report to my ready room." Data glanced up from the science station on the bridge. He patiently waited out the average response time of 1.47905 seconds while calculating the density of dark matter, then answered, "acknowledged, Captain." He stood up as the Beta shift officer, Melissa Holland Truman, took over. In the 7.844310985 seconds it took to walk across the bridge to the captain's ready room, Data composed 3 poems, 2 new melodies for the violin, and a broad statistical analysis of the possible reasons that the captain had called for him. Review of the engineering upgrades (37% probability), overview of a particular ship inhabitant (29% probability), statistical input in mission logs (12% probability), update on private work (11% probability), overall suggestions (5% probability), personal input (3% probability), and other (3% probability).

Data rang the chime. "Come," rang the captain's baritone voice from the other side. Data entered and came to stand in front of the captain's desk. The Captain Picard was deep in thought. He glanced up at Data.

"Commander, I heard that there was a confrontation in Engineering earlier today. Would you care to provide your viewpoint on it? You were in Engineering at that time, correct?"

"That is correct, sir."

"What happened?"

 **0-0-0-0-0**

T'Kara sat on her couch, frowning at some random spot on the ground. Her behavior was _unacceptable_! How could she have been that brash? She was jeopardizing everything she had finally been given. And for what? Some cheap crack at a stressed ensign? Not only had she lost her control in a way that did not become her, but she let information slip. She had only realized afterward that it was impossible to know about Ensign Rodinsky's wife. So _how did she_?

T'Kara subconsciously recognized that a musical noise sounded from somewhere.

T'Kara sighed. She was not blind to the fact that this had happened before. However, it was pretty hard to recognize the moment when she knew something that she should not. It should not be possible to remember something that she was never present to learn in the first place!

The noise came again. And, once again, T'Kara failed to hear it.

T'Kara blew out an irritated huff at herself and returned to her original line of thought. She should not have acted so petty and ridiculous! She should at least attempt to have _some_ modicum of self-control. T'Kara stood and began to pace the length of her cabin.

A small noise rang in the back of T'Kara's awareness, but she brushed it aside—so deep she was in thought.

At that moment, she remembered the haughty looks on every face of every Vulcan child that taunted her, she remembered the looks of resentment worn by nearly every healer charged with her well-being, she remembered the ill-disguised horror on her father's face and the disgust on T'Pov's features. T'Kara's face crumpled. She could have easily hurt Leon Rodinsky. A small, dark part of her had wanted to. She shivered from disgust at herself.

There was a whooshing sound behind her, but she was to caught up in her misplaced self-loathing.

She glanced at her shattered PADD that sat dejectedly in the corner and grimaced. "I am not a bad person," she whispered to herself. "Am I?"

"No. I don't think so," a voice said from behind her. T'Kara jumped and spun around.

 **0-0-0-0-0 EARLIER**

Captain Jean-Luc Picard sat at his desk frowning off into space. He shook his head, knowing he had some serious questions that could not be delayed any longer.

Pressing his COMM badge, he said, "Captain Picard to Doctor Pulaski."

After a moment, her voice came though the channel, "Yes, Captain. Can I help you?"

"Doctor, have you received the paternal results of your blood testson civilian specialist T'Kara?"

"Yes, Captain. But I haven't been able to look at him yet."

"Doctor, please have those, and any other relevant medical reports on Specialist T'Kara, sent to my ready room."

"Understood, sir. Pulaski out."

 **0-0-0-0-0**

It wasn't too long before a blue-wearing young man entered the Captain's ready room and handed him a PADD.

"Thank you, Ensign. You are dismissed."

"Yes, sir." The lad walked out.

Captain Picard glanced through the report. His frow deepened. "Just as I suspected," he whispered to himself.

After a couple minutes, the computer alerted Captain Picard that the shift was over. He stood and made his way off the bridge, riding the turbolift down to the guest quarters. In the hallway, he passed a few crew members before coming to stand outside the door of the _Enterprise's_ latest mystery. Jean-Luc sent a last glance toward the PADD he held in his hands and rang the bell. He waited a few moments. No response. Perhaps she hadn't heard. He rang again. Pause. No response.

Jean-Luc frowned. "Computer," he asked, "where is Civilian Specialist T'Kara?"

A nondescript female voice resonnded, "Civilian Specialist T'Kara is in her quarters."

 _Odd_. If she was indeed in her quarters, why had she not responded? He waited another minute before ringing again. Still, no Vulcan woman showed up to allow him entrance or attempt to shoo him away. A gut-feeling told Captain Picard that something was wrong.

"Comand override: Picard-Zeta-0-3-8-2."

The door slid open with a whoosh.

Cautiously, Jean-Luc set foot inside. He saw Kara standing with her back to him. She had her arms tucked around her in an un-Vulcanlike display of vulnerability. She glanced towards the corner of the room at what looked much like the remains of a PADD and winced involuntarily.

"I am not a bad person," he heard her whisper. Though, it did seem like she had trouble believing her own words.

Jean-Luc frowned. ' _What? Why would she think that she was?'_ The captain had heard Data's testimony. It seems like Kara was justified in her reaction, though she may have overreacted. As for everything else: bad people don't show remorse when they believe that they're alone. She felt guilty about something, but only good people regretted bad actions.

T'Kara whispered, "Am I?"

Jean-Luc decided that this was the time to make his presence known. "No," he said quietly. "I don't think so."

 **0-0-0-0-0**

Kara gasped, jumped, and turned to face him. Her surprise was a testament to how focused she had been on her emotions. She rarely, if ever, found herself caught off guard by a person. Until now, she had always been able to sense another's presence near, sans Commander Data of course.

T'Kara recovered as quickly as possible. "Captain, I...how long have you been standing there?" Her face was flushed green from embarrassment and she found herself unable to meet his questioning gaze.

"Not long," he replied.

An awkard silence descended. Although it lasted less than a minute, both parties felt it acutely. T'Kara was the first to speak.

"Is there a reason for your visit?" She had not intended to be rude, but was rather anxious to be out from under his assessing gaze.

"Yes, actually," he replied. "I wanted to ask a few more questions of you. I apologize for...intruding." He cast an uncertain look at the broken PADD in the corner.

"You were not," she stated quickly. The green that had been fading from her checks returned in vengeance when she saw him look at the rather damaged PADD. "I am only here due to your kindness. If you have questions: ask away." She gesured to the couch, where they both then took a seat.

Captain Picard hoped that he would gain some insight if he knocked T'Kara off her game by asking bluntly, "Who are you—or better yet: _what_ are you?"

She blinked. Some small part of her registered that her mouth had fallen open in surprise. She blinked again.

"I...am... _sorry_? What are you asking me? My name is T'Karavandurngtkhatnagn—shortened to T'Kara for Standard English—and am Vulcan. I was born—"

"—No," Jean-Luc Picard interrupted harshly. "You are not Vulcan. I'll ask again: who are you?"

T'Kara was gaping— _jaw-sweeping-the-floor gaping_. She blinked, again. She had a feeling that she would be laughing at that moment if she had not been able to tell that Jean-Luc was serious. As it was though, she was gaping. She took a breath, collecting herself.

"What do you mean?"

He handed her a PADD. "Here are your medical results. I suggest you consider how to proceed carefully. If I believe that you represent a danger to this ship or her crew—"

"—No," Kara whispered in answer, her face not coming unglued to the screen. She didn't even glance up to look at him, so involved as she was in attempting to reconcile herself with the information. "It is not my intention to hurt anyone," she continued. Her face was scrunched in confusion and disbelief at the data.

They were both silent for a moment or two. T'Kara was absorbing the information Suddenly, she cried out.

"This..this is not possible!" With her outbreak, she finally looked up at Jean-Luc. He could see confusion and fear battling in her eyes. It seemed like fear won as the dominant emotion.

"Please believe me: I do not know what this means."

Captain Jean-Luc Picard sat back and sighed. Was she telling the truth? Yes, he thought so. He had never seen someone fake that level of fear before—even the best actors lacked something that was present in her gaze.

"So where does that leave us?" he asked.

T'Kara shook her head, tears coming to her eyes. "I have no idea."

Jean-Luc fidgeted and stood. He was never good with crying women. He bid Kara good evening, though she didn't respond. Feeling a little guilty, and quite a bit confused as to _why_ he was feeling a little bit guilty, he stepped out of her quarters.

 **0-0-0-0-0 HOURS LATER**

T'Kara was curled up in a ball on her couch. She had lond-since run out of tears. In fact, she knew that it was probably early morning by now. She had spent the whole night wide awake, having found herself unable to think about anything but the information on the PADD. It just...it was far too much to have to take in at once.

The first results were suprising, but almost understandable. It was startling to see how psi strong she was, but then again, she had always known that she was more telepathic than the average Vulcan. When she could sense someone's presence a distance away, or sense emphatically, it was a hint that she was powerf ul. Still...that powerful? That level of power was simply...frightening.

Then had come the DNA results, chilling by themselves. Although the data was rather self-explanatory, the story behind it was not. She glanced down at the PADD.

It read:

 _ **GENETIC SPECIES RESULTS:**_

 _ **SPECIES: Vulcan-full**_

 _ **GENETIC ANCESTORIAL RESULTS:**_

 _ **MATERNAL: None**_

 _ **PATERNAL: None**_

The test solved the internal debate that had waged for decades. T'Kara, though emotional as she was, _was_ full Vulcan. That meant that her mother, whoever the woman was, was a full Vulcan genetically. However, Kara shivered. The results made no sense! It was _never_ debated if she was related to Starok. She looked like him! Did she not? Part of her whispered that _did_ it make sense. She had never seen holograms of her mother. Starok had never spoken to her of her mother...No! He had nothing to hide. Starok was simply a private man that preferred not to speak about his lost bondmate. 'End of story,' as humans would say.

But even that knowledge did not hold a candle to the last piece of evidence, for that is what it was— _evidence_. It was this that sent her into a fit of shuddering tears as soon as Captain Pucard had stepped out of her quarters. The PADD displayed the synapses in her brain. _No_. No, out of all the life-altering bits of information, this was hardest for her to reconcile to herself. As she thought about it, the tears began to well up yet again. There were too many synapses in her brain for a single individual. There were even too many for one-hundred individuals, or one-thousand. There were, however, just the right amount of synapses for a Borg Collective.

* * *

 _ **Ummm, Hi everybody,**_

 _Please don't kill me. I'm am_ **SOOOO** _incredibly sorry for getting this out so late. I'm on fall break finally but my wi-fi's been acting up. I'd love to hear any thoughts you may have. Even if it's hatemail. I probably deserve hatemail. You guys have been great putting up with me, so thank you. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. The plot's going to pick up soon._

 _ **-De Bre Layn**_


	11. Memories

**0-0-0 3 DAYS LATER: STARDATE 42779.1**

T'Kara finished her second cup of coffee that morning. She sighed and repressed a shudder. It had been eight days since she had slept. She hadn't slept for a few days before Deanna came to speak to her in the hospital and she most certainly couldn't sleep now. _Dreams_. When she first was admitted to the hospital, the staff had to place her in a comatose state for sleep, although they never explained exactly why. All she knew was that her dreams had been violent, brutal. She had finally been able to sleep peacefully once the year 2275 came and went with no sign of...the Borg (she shuddered), but now? Now, she knew, her nightmares would return to plague her. The Borg were not a figment of her imagination as she had been told by countless psychiatrists and desperately wished to believe. Yes, her dreams would return, because _they_ did. And with her dreams, it would be even more difficult than usual to suppress the... _memories_. She shuddered again.

T'Kara ducked out of her quarters and into Ten-Forward for breakfast. She needed a distraction. She chose a human meat of 'oatmeal and fruit'. It actually was decent, but she decided that she didn't care for the taste of 'oatmeal'. On her way out she bumped—well, nearly—into Lieutenant Commander Data as he entered.

"Oh! Excuse me Data."

"My apologies, Kara."

She turned to leave before a thought occurred to her. She turned back to him. "Oh, Data? Where is Enterprise headed?"

"We are en route to the Epsilon 9 sector."

"Okay, thank you. Also, I wanted to know what process I need to go through to be cleared to create a program on the holodeck for my work."

"You would file a formal request with me as you are not a member of the crew."

"I will do that. Thank you again."

"You are welcome." He nodded, then turned back to Ten-Forward.

T'Kara walked aimlessly through the Enterprise's corridors. Despite the outward appearance she put on, she had yet to return from the haze of confusion and grief that consumed her three days prior. In fact, today was the first time since she received that despicable PADD from Captain Picard that T'Kara had left her quarters. She sighed. Deanna had tried to get her to talk, but, so far, she had been navigating around the counselor's attempts to help. This, she had to work out alone. She could not inflict her story on the counselor and would most certainly be booted off Enterprise if Captain Picard got wind of it. Currently, of course, the captain was not a problem. He had just left for Starbase 515 for his secret medical operation. T'Kara stumbled at that thought, which caused a passing ensign to shoot her a strange look. Now, how had she _known_ that?

Now that T'Kara was no longer walking on 'automatic',she noticed that she happened to be wandering through the hallway that opened to the holodecks when she noticed that the doors to holodecks 6 were open. Children's laughter could be heard from inside. Kara smiled wistfully and peaked inside. Many young children were splashing around in a pool. It seemed that it was an open activity, but only one adult was present, a young woman who continued to nervously glance at the time displayed on the wall. A date, T'Kara's mind supplied. She walked in and up to the woman sheepishly.

"Missing your date?"

The woman, Junior Ensign Lynda Donns, she recognized from when she had read the personnel profiles, looked at her in relief. "Oh, good. You're the replacement. You're late."

"You misunderstand. I am—"

"Listen. You're right and I'm late. Just watch them. Your shift ends in a couple hours."

"But I—" T'Kara protested.

Junior Ensign Donns was already out the door.

"—cannot swim," T'Kara finished nervously.

She cursed herself for leaving the comm badge she was given in her quarters. Walking to the entrance, she looked up and down the hall. There was no one in sight. T'Kara swore under her breath in Vulcan. She wanted to retrieve another adult, but was worried about the children. Some of them looked like the only things keeping them above the water were floatation devices. What could happen to them if she left the room?

Kara sighed and sat down. It was only for a few hours at most. Donns real replacement would probably be there any second anyway. The odds that something would go wrong were in her favor.

Soon, she would come to regret her decision.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

A voice came over the ship-wide intercom, "Attention crew, this is First Officer William Riker. We are currently in tense conditions with a hostile ship. All extraneous activities are canceled. Stand by. Doctor Pulaski, please report to the briefing room."

A collective groan came from all the oldest of the children. They systematically exited the pool and left, until there was a single child left—a little girl, hardly older than four, was stuck on a raft in the center of the pool. She was crying. T'Kara walked to the edge of the pool, misinterpreting the girl's tears as those of disappointment.

"I know, sweetie. I am sorry. I am certain that you can return at a later date."

The girl shook her head. "How do I get out. I can't swim?"

T'Kara blinked. _Oh dear._ "Ah. Can you paddle?"

The child frowned, contemplating it. "I don't know. I'll try."

The girl reached for the water...and time slowed down.

0.56 seconds: "WAIT," T'Kara shouted. 0.72 seconds: the girl lost her balance. 1.37 seconds: the girl fell in. T'Kara found herself unable to move. 4.09 seconds: while underwater, the girl screamed and began choking. 7.18 seconds: the girl hit to bottom of the pool. 7.19 seconds: T'Kara knew what she had to do.

She closed her eyes and retreated within the depths of her mind.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

When T'Kara opened her eyes, she found herself on the streets of a Terran city, from what she could tell from the pictures she had seen previously. Why would this be her mental construct? She turned in a 360 degree circle until she spotted the building that she was looking for. While the rest of the city was clean and white, this building was run-down, graffitied, and had a dark cloud over it—the city jail.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

Kara shivered, but hurried to the building and up its steps until she was stopped by a security guard that looked identical to herself. The woman sneered.

"Well well well, look who it is: the Owner. My, hasn't it been a while. I haven't seen you here since you stopped trying to kill y—"

"I need access to the memories." T'Kara cut her off, not exactly wanting to be reminded of the time before this jail had been here.

"I know, but that's not gonna happen."

"Why?"

"They're not ours. You have no right—"

"I understand, however the girl is—"

"I know, but you don't need memories of swimming. Just jump in. I've heard it's instinctual." The woman laughed sarcastically.

"Not for Vulcans. I can not swim. If I jump in, I will die."

The guard growled. "I know. That's why I suggested it."

"If I die, so will you and the girl. Now, you must let me pass."

"Don't tell me you've changed. You're still a masochist. I know you researched some of them on the holonet. Isn't it odd that a few don't even exist? Their parents, family, friends, but not them."

"How is that possible?"

"I don't know."

"I thought you know everything?"

"I'm your subconscious, not God."

"Let me enter."

"You're opening up a can of worms. What happens when these mental barriers you been building up for almost a century come crashing down? I've lived all this time with their whispers and so did you once, but you couldn't handle it then and you can't handle it now."

T'Kara shivered. So that was why her mental construct was Terran. The memories has been influencing her subconscious for years, even after she had looked them away.

"I will take that risk," she whispered.

"It's not yours to take."

"Stand aside."

"I'd say 'your funeral,' but it's mine too." Now, the woman was snarling, but T'Kara was not fazed.

"Now," she ordered.

"I'm warning you: ground one! Do you hear me? It'll be like in the very beginning of the hospital. Do you really want to do that?..."

"Not at all."

"Then don't! No one has to know!"

"Tell me, which is worse: stealing and defiling the memories or allowing an innocent child to die when you could save her if you use stolen and defiled memories?"

"I don't know. But if you do this, there's no going back. You're walking up to living nightmares and asking them to overwhelm you. Is it really worth it!?"

"Life is always worth it."

"The cell you're looking for is the thirty-second on your right in hall 108D."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. You're walking into hell. I just gave you the golden ticket."

"Why did you?"

"You answered correctly. Now go save that girl."

T'Kara smiled in thanks and took off inside the building. As soon as she was out of sight, the security guard turned around.

"The conscious version of me is gone, if that's what you're afraid of. You can come out now," she called out to a seemingly empty street.

Q stepped out from behind a building. He sauntered up to the security guard and grinned, but it came out as more of a grimace. This didn't exhale the notice of his companion.

"Can't you help her," she whispered sadly in askance.

"Nope," he replied. "She tied my hands and she doesn't even know it. This is the only option because she believes it's the only option."

"What's going on? How are you involved in any of this?"

Q simply smiled and walked away.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

T'Kara turned and ran down hall 108D. She skidded to a halt before a small cell with a nameplate that read:

 _Millie Sandra Harding (human)_

 _Olympic Gold Medalist Swimmer_

Kara hesitated, looking for a switch or a button to open the cell. She frowned when she could not see one.

She turned around in confusion to see her double standing behind her, holding a remote.

"Security's not that great. It's impossible on this sort of scale," she guesturged around her to the massive building with its endless hallways. "One switch opens all the cells in this hall."

T'Kara grimaced,catching on. "How many," she questioned in a whisper.

"Hundreds. At _least_ ," came the subdued reply.

Kara reached for the button.

"It'll hurt."

"I know." She pressed it.

T'Kara fell to her knees with a cry as, all down the row, the cell doors swung open and stolen memories slammed into her. He grabbed at her head, desperately trying to allieve the pounding, ripping, burning sensation that threatened to swallow her whole.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

 _Jared was bored, so bored. Nothing was happening. Nothing EVER happened to him. He was currently sitting on his couch eating pizza and watching Agent Castero on holovision. Suddenly, a reporter came over the air. "There are reports that the ships surrounding Eath have made contact with the Borg. This may be our defining—"_

Kara shoved the memory aside. Not what she was looking for.

 _Cronk didn't consider himself a bad Klingon, he just had a bad temper. When someone got in his way, he took them out. When someone made him angry, he did it slowly. Now was one of those times. The man he was kneeling over on the ground had glared at him. Now, he was choking the life out of him, watching his eyes dull. And it was so much fun!_

Kara gagged. "No," she said in disgust. She locked the hellish memory down as much as was possible, which wasn't saying much. There were just so many. What used to be cells in a maximum security prison became boxes in a warehouse with a shaky foundation. Instead of pad locks and cell doors, T'Kara was attempting to hold the memories back with shelves and duct tape. _Focus on Millie. Find Millie._

 _Millie Sandra Harding knew she was good. She wouldn't be here if she wasn't. But sonetimes, it was just hard to believe. She loved to swim. It was her passion. Somewhere along the way, she got good at it. She grinned, leaning as close to the edge was possible. Any moment now... The whistle blew and Millie took off. The water surrounded her and she only had one goal. Right arm, left arm, right again, and left. This was it. This was for the gold. She HAD to do it. She'd come so far._

 **0-0-0-0-0**

T'Kara opened her eyes. The girl was lying at the bottom of the pool. Ripples from where she had fallen in were just beginning to reach T'Kara near the edge of the pool. It had only been a few seconds since she closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and dove in. _Right arm, left arm, right arm, left arm, right arm._... Kara had to push the memory back to keep from being caught in it, all the while drawing upon the memory to be able to save it girl. Her head threatened to tear itself apart. T'Kara winced, but continued to swim. _Left arm, right arm, left arm, right arm_. She reached the girl. Grabbing the limp frame in her right arm, she pushed off from the bottom, towards the side once more. _Left_ _arm_ , _legs_ , _left_ _arm_ , _legs, left arm, legs_ , _and left arm_. She broke through the surface of the water with a gasp.

 _Millie felt her hands touch the wall. This was it. Did she win?_

T'Kara latched onto the pool wall and rolled her wet bundle onto the ground.

 _Millie crawled up the latter, nervously glancing at the scoreboard. The announcer screamed, "Only seventeen years old, Millie Harding has won the World Olympics! Incredible!" A smile lit up Millie's face. She won! She actually won! The crowd was roaring._

Swinging herself out of the pool, Kara checked the girl over as the roars of a nonexistent crowd sounded in her head. The child had a pulse, but wasn't breathing. T'Kara panicked until she realized that out of the mess of memories she had just let out, someone knew CPR. T'Kara began chest compressions, wincing when she heard one, and then another, of the child's fragil ribs crack. She did thirty compressions, then one breath, then thirty more, then another breath.

Her head protested against the memories.

 _...The crowd was roaring..._

After 17 minutes, Commander Riker came over the intercom and announced to the _Enterprise_ crew that the tension had passed. T'Kara felt _Enterprise_ change direction and jump to warp 9, but she gave the act little attention. She still had CPR to preform.

She tried to ignore the pain, to focus on the here-and-now.

 _...The crowd was roaring..._

Another 6 minutes passed, the time only being marked by the Enterprise coming out of warp, before the little girl began to cough. Kara sighed, spoke soothing words to the girl, and turned the child to the side to spit up the water. However, her relief was short-lived as she watched the crying girl cough up blood as well as water. As it turned out, one of the broken ribs had punctured the child's right lung.

 _...The crowd was roaring..._

She stood, whispering words of encouragement to the girl as she ran out into the corridor. Running to the nearest turbolift, she punched the button for emergency priority access, then ordered the transport to the medbay.

 _...The crowd was roaring..._

The girl needed her. _Ignore it._

Rushing in, she called loudly, "I need emergency medical attention over here. We have a confirmed: two broken ribs and a punctured lung—effects of CPR."

 _...The crowd was roaring..._

She was swarmed by blue medical uniforms. Someone took the girl from her and a black-haired man called out, "Okay people, prep the patient for surgery. I'll—" he stopped when he caught sight of the girl. "Kate!" He rushed over to the biobed she was on and began to stroke her hair. "Don't worry sweetie. You're alright. Everything's okay. You'll be alright. Daddy's here."

 _...The crowd was roaring..._

All around the duo, nurses were prepping the girl—Kate—for surgery and T'Kara was about to leave when she noticed something, two somethings actually. 1) the doctor's hands were shaking badly and 2) he was the only doctor in the medbay.

 _...The crowd was roaring..._

Kara cautiously approached the man, who was still whispering encouragements to his daughter.

"Doctor, you are unfit for duty."

He glanced back at her and nodded in agreement, before beginning to turn back to Kate.

T'Kara grabbed his arm. "I suggest you call in another doctor to preform the surgery."

The man nodded again and reached for his comm unit before freezing. He paled and looked T'Kara in the eye. "I...I can't. They're all in surgery assisting Doctor Pulaski. I only stayed behind to meet the safety requirements." Tears of fear and desperation rose in the man's eyes. "This is Beta Shift. These kids, most of them haven't even assisted in an operation, much less..." his voice broke off into a sob.

 _...The crowd was roaring..._

T'Kara walked into an empty private room and closed her eyes.

 _The crowd went silent._

 **0-0-0-0-0**

Opening her eyes, T'Kara found herself sprawled out in middle if hall 108D. There were klaxons going off somewhere and a fire had broken out, as evidenced by the smoke. Flashes and emotions and screams and echoes of an impossible past darted around her, taking the form of blurs of color and sound. The place was chaotic. The picture of her identical twin running around, catching the phantoms, shoving them into boxes, taping, and storing those boxes on the towering shelves would be amusing if it didn't cause T'Kara so much pain. This place was her mind and it was falling into disarray.

Kara blearily stood, teetering like a drunkard from the pain. Grasping the shelf to her right, she made her way to the security guard.

"Where?"

The woman hesitated, turned, and looked at her. There was fear in the woman's eyes, but she attempted to hide it with irritation. "You look like crap. That means you need to hurry. Hall 1,209B, second on your left."

T'Kara nodded in understanding and made to walk off.

"Wait," her subconscious called. "That section hasn't shifted to be a warehouse yet. It won't till you use this." The woman pressed another remote-control device into Kara's hand and sighed. "Be careful," she whispered.

T'Kara smiled sadly. "So I'm not a complete masochist, am I?" She turned and left.

As she turned away, the security guard went back to work, attempting to bring order to the chaos. Once T'Kara turned the corner though, the woman stopped and looked after her. "Maybe not," she whispered sadly, "but this next one is gonna hurt you so bad."

 **0-0-0-0-0**

When T'Kara arrived at hall 1,209B, she glanced at the nameplate that was the second on her left. It read:

 _Doctor Phlarix (denoblian)_

 _Advanced Surgeon_

Kara smiled wistfully and glanced down the hall at the hundreds of prison cells that were about to be opened. In doing so, she happened to see the nameplate that appeared after this one. She froze, not even aware that she had stopped breathing. It read:

 _Starok (vulcan)_

 _Councilmember of the Vulcan Science Directorate_

A sob escaped her throat. Here were all his memories—her _father's memories._ The remote slipped from her hand and fell to the ground. Kata herself fell to her knees, unable to look away from that nameplate.

No, she could not do it. She could _not_ see her father's last moments.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

T'Kara opened her eyes and looked around the small medbay room. She sighed. She just could _not_ do it. As she was about to exit the room, she overheard two nurses conversing.

"You worry too much, Sydney. Doctor Pulaski will be here in a couple of hours. Kate'll be fine."

"Maybe, _if_ she hadn't already been dead for twenty minutes. As it is, she's not stabilizing. We're loosing her and no one's capable of stopping it."

"Oh. Poor Deryll. First his wife and now his daughter."

T'Kara never heard the other woman's response.

 **0-0-0-0-0**

T'Kara pickup the remote and herself up off the floor. Sending one last glance toward the prison cell that held her father's memories, T'Kara turned toward the Denoblian doctor's cell, took a shaky breath, pressed the button on the remote, and whispered, "Forgive me."

 **0-0-0 7 MINUTES LATER**

Deryll Summers sat quietly, stroking his precious daughter's hair. He cursed himself and his inability to remain calm, cursed the other doctors for all leaving with Pulaski, and cursed Captain Picard for taking away the people who could help his daughter. His anger, however, skipped over the Vulcan woman who hurt his beautiful Kate. As much as he wanted to be angry at her, she did what she had to try to save Kate's life.

Speaking of the Vulcan, a throat was cleared behind him. Turning wearily around, Deryll gazed at the woman. Her face was blank and perfectly Vulcan-like. The sympathy he saw in her eyes earlier must have been his imagination.

"I am capable of preforming the operation."

Deryll blinked. She...she what? Really? He was shocked that she hadn't mentioned it earlier but Vulcans don't lie so...

"Alright. Good. Okay."

 **0-0-0 2.5 HOURS LATER**

"I am now closing the entrance wound," T'Kara narrorated for all the junior staff present. The surgery had been a success. Little Kate was a healthy, young girl who would wake up in a few hours, perfectly fine.

T'Kara had preformed the operation remarkably well. Although Deryll had had his doubts, even he had to admit that the woman was skilled.

"Good work, people," T'Kara praised.

"Thank you," said Doctor Summers. "Thank you so much. You saved my little girl's life."

T'Kara gave him a sharp nod in reply, then winced, grabbing her head. It was only now that Dictor Summers noticed that the Vulcan woman had a sheen of sweat on her forehead and her pupils were blown.

"Ms. T'Kara, are you okay?"

"I am fine," she mumbled, stumbling back and knocking into a tray of equipment. Her hands went to her temples and she groaned.

A couple of the junior officers helped her up. "What's wrong," asked Summers.

"I...I should have told you. I am not qualified to preform sur...surgery. I am sorry."

Before he could even get a word out in response, T'Kara, collapsed.

* * *

 _Hey everyone!_

 _Sorry that it's been over a month since my last update. Tell me what you think about this chapter. The question of Q being here will be answered next chapter, but I'd like you to tell me: what part of the story would you like me to focus on in the future? 1) T'Kara's relationship with the Enterprise crew, 2) Why she jumps between alternate realities, or 3) What's up with the Borg. I hope you enjoyed the chapter._

- ** _De Bre Layn_**


	12. Notice of Hiatus

Hello, everyone.

I'm sorry it's taken so long to write this, but I need to just admit it. I can't keep up with this story in a reasonable manner during the school year. I started it during the summer, but have had a hard time updating. As such, I have decided to put this story on hiatus until the end of the school year. I'm very sorry.

Sincerely, De Bre Layn


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